


Forge - Winter's Journey

by hellgodsrus



Category: RWBY
Genre: Atlas Academy, Bathos, Canon is Winter's Fault, Lots of OCs - Freeform, Major Character Injury, Pre-Violence White Fang, Racism, Sudden Tonal Shift
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 95,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7374631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellgodsrus/pseuds/hellgodsrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of Winter Schnee.  This is the story of her time at Atlas Academy.  This is the story of how the world ended up on the path to darkness.  And it's all Winter's fault.  Co-authored with WhoAmEye of Sufficient Velocity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback is appreciated and welcome, and Eye and I (heh) will try to respond to any comments as quickly as possible. Hope you enjoy!

-.-.-

A new year, a new influx of students. They poured in through the main gates of the prestigious Hunter Academy clad in unique armours, outfits, and more. Alas, only several small handfuls would make it past the Trials.

Atlas was different from the other Academies. Their government and military and academies were all one and the same. They didn’t care who you are, who you were, only who you will be.

And if you were going to be the person they wanted you to be?

You got in.

No background checks, no scrutiny, nothing. If a Grimm was capable of passing the Trials, they would have gotten in too.

It was near perfect for Winter. The only issue would be getting _to_ the Trials unrecognised. Once through, it wouldn’t matter. But every noise - that could be one of her father’s men, ready to return her home from her ‘foolish jaunt’.  

She’d show _him_ a foolish jaunt. Going on and on about how the security of the kingdom was at stake then refusing to let her defend it. Moron.  

She felt cold, the chilling breeze brushing over her newly bare neck. While removing the long Schnee hair had been a good move - and a nice piece of symbolism - she missed the weight of it. And on top of all that, she had to wear this stupid puffy coat to hide her figure. Nothing said Schnee like immaculate fashion, and fashion like this was decidedly un-Schnee.

It still grated to wear it.

With so many young hopefuls coming with her, it didn’t take long before she was getting bumped. The snowfall chilled the air to an almost painful degree for anyone who wasn’t a local. The frost-tipped peaks were almost permanently coated in ice and snow.

The jostling was understandable, but perturbing. It took all her considerable will not to turn to the oafs who lumbered past and ask them whether they had the slightest concept of personal space, or a thousand other cutting remarks that would start a fight that would attract attention. Winter didn’t want attention - but it was hard to keep quiet amidst the constant press of others.

There was a smell of alcohol in the air, too. It got stronger and stronger until suddenly a massive woman built like an Ursa bumped by her. Or, more accurately, shoulder-barged her out of the way. Winter wasn’t exactly rushing, but whoever this woman was, she was taking much larger strides.

She did her best to restrain her rage that _begged_ her to reach out and snag the insolent wretch with a glyph, ask them _what_ they thought they were doing smashing through their fellow pupils _and_ ask if they knew the legal drinking age in Atlas and whether they thought they could get away with such behaviour at the academy.

But -

Attention. Such a righteously deserved dressing down would attract attention. She couldn’t afford that. Couldn’t afford to be noticed as anyone other than another applicant til after the Trials. Silence, calm, one foot crunching forward in front of the other.

The academy itself was built into the mountainside overlooking the ocean and the coastal city underneath. Unlike other academies, the natural barriers surrounding Atlas were quite adept at keeping Grimm at bay.

The near constant Nevermore and Griffon strikes did wear down everybody’s nerves, though, despite the reassuring presence of several Cruisers in the sky.

Would she serve on one one day? The thought was - the press of people, the small steel beds - unpleasant. Too close to home too.

No, she’d become one of those roaming specialists. Seeking out quiet, far-gone nests of Grimm, taking them out lethally, precisely, and alone. Didn’t hurt that her father had said how they were a… ‘waste of budget that could be spent on quashing further civil unrest, or on improving our navy.’  

The military was a certainty. Anything else could be seen as ‘teen rebellion against authority’. Joining another authority though, one he despised, one that helped others - well, that was perfect. She did her best not to smirk.

Almost everyone had their gear carried in with them. That foul-smelling wretch ahead of her had a giant shield slung over her arm. A young man beside her carried a blade-limbed crossbow. Another girl seemed to be wielding some sort of… assault rifle? Shotgun? She couldn’t tell.

Hunters across Remnant were known for having their flashy, ‘heroic’ outfits. Grimm attacked negativity and inspiring hope was one way of combating that - though Winter herself was simply going to inspire _respect_ , and _not_ dress in those hideous midriff bearing nonsense outfits she’d seen some competitors wear in the Vytal tournament. No, she was going to be an impressive figure, one who inspired hope via her _capabilities_ , rather than appearing colourful and falling flat at the hurdle of combat.

Practical. Efficient. Effective.  

The metal sheets of the Atlas Academy were practical, efficient, and effective too. In places like Vale, stonework might be more appropriate. But here in the icy, ore-rich mountains of the Mantle, metal was abundant.

As was Dust.

They filed in through the gates, the doors, and finally, they were inside. Holographic screens were everywhere. Pillars supporting the floor above were every few meters. A grand hall may have been impressive to some, but to Winter, they were making use of the space they had available, and that was admirable.

Following the signs down the labyrinthine halls, they eventually made their way to a massive auditorium. A colosseum within the mountain. Up on the stage stood General Ironwood, impressive as usual. He looked as strong as the thick, rigid pillars that lined the room.

Once everyone was in, the doors shut and the lights dimmed, leaving the spotlight on Ironwood.

“Thank you all for coming,” he began. “It warms my heart to see how many people volunteer for this life, to protect others so that they may live peaceful lives.”

That was where the formalities ended.

“As you all should be aware, this is an Academy. We will train those of you who can get in to become Hunters and Huntresses. We will not be training you to become heroes or heroines. We will not be training you to become loose cannons with wild aim and insane ambitions.”

She resisted the urge to snort. She didn’t think anyone who actually made the trek up here would think they’d be some sort of action movie Spruce Willis hero who didn’t play by the rules. She certainly had no intentions of doing so. As long as the rules existed for a logical reason, why not follow them?

“Discipline is key to beating the Grimm and here you will learn it. You may have fought Grimm before, but when you leave this academy, you will not fight Grimm, you will hunt them. Track them down, and kill them, to keep our nations safe.”

He stopped, hands folded behind his back. “But first, you must enter this academy. I don’t imagine any of you have come here unfamiliar with our way of handling things, but there are widespread rumours and misinformation about our Trials.” Winter could hear the capitalisation on that last word, the emphasis he put on it. “The Trials can be lethal. We do not have many fatalities, but there are a number every year. Should you die, we will identify and inform your family. They will be paid a full military pension as though you were an officer who died in combat. There are three stages to the Trials. Of Wit, of Speed, and of Strength. At each one your skills, your improvisation and your teamwork will be tested against unfamiliar opponents and environments. Passing all three grants you entrance to the academy. The majority of you will fail. That is how these Trials are designed. Do not be surprised if this is more challenging than whatever foe or test you have faced before. We are here to train the elite to become the best, and as loathe as I am to admit it, not all of you fall into that category.” His head hung for a moment. He was a remarkable orator, better than her father had given him credit for.  

“But, partial success will be credited with entrance to our military boot camp. Your skills can be used elsewhere than directly as a hunter, and we recognise that, and your drive and willingness to succeed.” His gloved fist hammered into the podium. “Whoever you are. Wherever you have come from. We will reforge you into a fist of steel to drive back the beasts that threaten the world. You will be Hunters!”

A rallying roar went up from the assembled young hopefuls. There weren’t any words that made sense, just a loud chorus of enthusiasm and support and pride for their kingdom.

Winter tried not to wince. Patriotism was impressive and good, but best enjoyed from a distance.  

“Urgh,” a little girl that was barely tall enough to reach Winter’s shoulder shuffled next to her, covering her ears. “So loud…” she grumbled, her eyes covered by an odd orange blindfold.

The corners of Ironwood’s mouth twitched upwards slightly as his expression softened for a moment. “Alright, that’s enough, settle down now,” he chuckled. “You will be separated into five streams. Alpha, Beta, Charlie, Delta, and Echo. Within these streams you will face the Trials. Remember what we represent here; discipline and unity. I would wish you all good luck… but if that’s what it takes to get in, then you don’t deserve it.”

“Luck would be nice,” the girl grumbled, tilting her head to the side a little as she almost eerily stared up at Winter. “What do you think?”

A stranger was talking to her. Shit. She was unlikely to be a plant - not the kind her father normally employed - but even so, to engage too deeply was to risk her identity being compromised. But standing around like a dolt and not replying either would also attract attention so -

“It might be useful.” She turned her head away. There, the conversation was over. Crisis averted -

“Hmph. Useful. It could be the difference between life and death. But he’s right. If you need luck you just haven’t planned well enough, have you?” She seemed innocent, but Winter could have sworn there was a tinge of smirk in there.

“Yes.” Short, to the point, polite. But not a conversation ender. Damn, damn, damn. “More concrete skills are more useful.” And now she sounded like her father conducting an interview. _Damn it all_.  

“They are,” the girl nodded with a small smile as Academy staff started moving through the group, pointing out students and random and sending them to the designated stream areas. “See you soon.”  
And with a little wave, she was gone.

“And you, Steam Charlie,” a Technical Support Officer suddenly stamped a pad on her shoulder. It was silver with a big red C on it. These TSO’s would have more authority than her if she got in.

And they were _sneaky_ too. She thought she’d gotten good at noticing when people were approaching her - her bodyguards finding her creeping out, her father finding her reading and not studying - but she hadn’t heard him at all. The crowd and that little hellion, probably. Winter glanced round the room to try and find the gathering point for Stream Charlie. There, a fellow group of red and silver stamped figures - and in the middle was the short blind girl, smirking at her.

Damn it. Damn it _all_.  

“Hi,” the little hellion smiled and waved. _How did she know?!_ “I’m Helia.”

Before Winter had a chance to respond - not that she could’ve, she hadn’t thought of a fake name, she hadn’t thought other candidates would talk to her during the Trials - Ironwood appeared as a giant hologram, centre-stage. “You will all be given ten minutes to get ready. After that, the Trials begin. Make your kingdom proud.”

The gates opened, and the groups filed through, making their way down the labyrinthine halls and tunnels deep into the mountain.

Somehow, Helia never left Winter’s side.

-.-.-

She should have expected a communal changing room.

How the others could so casually bare themselves, render themselves vulnerable - even _joke_ about it - seemed beyond her. Was there no worry about revealing what the clothes were meant to hide, of removing what they were meant to enhance? Seemingly, not.

Cautiously she shucked her coat, keeping to a corner, eyes on the rest of the room. If anyone had recognised her and chose to approach her to ingratiate themselves, turn her in or assassinate her, she’d see them coming. The wall would be no hindrance to mobility with glyphs.

Helia was the closest, and therefore the one she’d have the least reaction time against. So she watched, trying her best to make it covert - Helia may have been blind but she certainly didn’t act like it - as Helia dumped her duffle-bag and slipped out of her top to expose - wings. She had wings.

Non-mammalian Faunus were rare, but did exist. Faunus - a factory worker, hence the blindness? Or was it due to drugs or criminality? Hard to tell with Faunus. She was flitterpated and flighty like a bird. It made sense.

They flapped weakly and stretched out, but there was something off about them. They were… diseased. Small. Her wingspan was barely a shoulder wider than her arm and her feathers looked… patchy. More than that, her ribs were visible through her skin, clear enough to count. She looked almost - no, she _did_ look starved.

A second later, Helia threw on a set of robes lined with daggers and armour plates, before latching an energised pack onto her back between her wings. They fitted through slight holes in her robes - clearly designed for that purpose. With that, Helia pulled up her pants, turning to Winter and curtseying. “Did milady enjoy the show?”

“I don’t -” How dare she - what insolence - “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Flicking her gaze elsewhere. Mangy wretch. “And even if I were that way inclined, I wouldn’t take advantage of something like you.”

Helia’s smirk flickered for a moment before returning in full force. “Who said you’d be taking advantage?~” she sang, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively - though the effect was lost significantly with the blindfold.

Winter decided to ignore her. Ignorant - set on upsetting her - damn, damn, _damn_. She fumbled on her combat jacket and waistcoat.

The drunk giant from earlier was almost clad too, sat on a bench in the middle of the room in what looked like a fortress worth of armour. Dark-chrome plates lined with yellow and gold, easily thick enough to give even an Ursa trouble. Winter had thought she was big before - the armour was thick enough to double her size, almost. Like a mobile bastion.

Next to her was an impossibly tall and thin figure of indeterminate gender, clad in similarly old fashioned armour. Leather and steel, culminating in a high collar that slipped over the lower half of her face. Heavy iron gauntlets and a preposterously large straight greatsword completed the outfit.

The giantess had her helmet in her lap as she took a large swig from a silver canister. “Nice sword,” she said, nodding to the tall one. “Looks strong.”

The tall one nodded. “Mm. Yours too.”

Winter noted they must have been the first to get into the changing rooms. It looked like it took a long time to put on all that heavy gear.

There was a whistle of air as the greatsword was swung in a wide, low arc. Almost a full circle. The tall figure was crouched low, near parallel to the ground, then she stood. “Good for cutting larger opponents down to size.”

The giant smiled and nodded, snorting slightly as she got to her feet. “Ambitious. Good.”

“Oh my god, a _flame_ sword?” some other high-pitched voice intruded on Winter’s observations.

“You got a problem with it, bitch?”

“Damn right I’ve got a problem with it. We’re in _ice-landia_. One slice wrong and you’ll start an avalanche or something!”

“IF WE WERE OUTSIDE ON THE MOUNTAINTOP, YOU IGNORANT TWIT!”

“Hey, no need to shout!”

“Bitch.”

“Cockbite.”

“... what the hell kind of insult is that?”

“I’m new at this.”

“Pff. You’re gonna go _real_ far kid.”

What a pair. One fiery - literally - redhead filled with overconfidence, and some prissy girl with light-blue pigtails who obviously suffered from the painful sting of hubris. What a fool to be so prideful.

“So much delightful chemistry going on~” Helia giggled, rocking back and forth where she stood “Don’t you agree?” she asked, flinging a knowing smile Winter’s way.

Ignoring her would be so much easier if she wasn’t so - distracting. “No. The rivalry is understandable but futile.”

“It could be put to so much better use though,” Helia frowned, the expression seemingly different with the blindfold on. “Such a waste of potential.”

“Yes.” Wait, she was agreeing with the wretch? Eh, a broken clock. “Your first correct statement.”

“Two plus two doesn’t always equal four.”

“For certain definitions of two and four.” Maths jokes. Nice to meet a well educated Faunus.

A sudden thump drew their attention back to the squabbling red and blue girl.

“OW!”

“I TOLD YOU TO LET GO!”

Red was hopping up and down on one foot while Blue clutched at her sniper rifle, the butt of the stock having a distinctly dirty mark on it. She must have slammed it into Red’s foot.

“Will you two stop-”

She was cut off by an alarm howling and the whole room plunging into darkness.

“ _WARNING: INNER DEFENCES HAVE BEEN BREACHED. PLEASE EVACUATE THIS FACILITY IN A CALM AND CONTROLLED MANNER. WARNING: GRIMM HAVE BREACHED INNER DEFENCES…_ ”


	2. Dead Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter - as before, thanks to my non-Ao3 co-author WhoAmEye. Any feedback is appreciated.

-.-.-

Winter most definitely didn’t panic. She didn’t internally curse the military and ask why they’d  _ allowed a Grimm breach _ during a fucking  _ training exercise _ . She didn’t suddenly realise she couldn’t use her glyphs without identifying herself. All of those would be foolish, unproductive actions. 

Instead, she remembered where the exit was and did her best to set off for it with long, confident strides. 

A task made difficult by everyone else in the room. 

Faces lit up from the glow of Dust tech. The giantess’s armour was highlighted gold, Helia’s robes glowed a soft blue, Red’s sword-shotgun burst into bright flame... and illuminated a pile of half-dressed girls tripping over each other in the middle of the room.

“Hey, geddoff!” Red shouted, jumping away and swinging her flaming sword around at the revelation of Blue hiding behind her.

“Idiots.” Giantess rumbled, her already deep voice slightly echoed by her armour. 

“Enough.” Winter only realised she’d spoken half a second later. “Get out of here now, bicker later.” Everyone was still standing around. “Move!”

Finally, the gaggle of girls got their wits together and started heading to the exits. Red lead the way with her flaming sword for light. “It’s  _ blocked! _ ” she yelled back. 

A chorus of moans and groans rose from the group. Winter could feel the heavy footsteps of the giantess as she moved down to the other hall, flanked by the tall girl. There was a startling  _ BANG _ as the giantess thumped her shield into the ground, activating something that lit up the front with more of that golden-hued light. 

How had they not heard the debris falling? The massive hunks of steel and concrete blocking their path couldn’t have fallen silently. Unless, of course, this was one of the trials. Either way, their options had to be the same.

“Can anyone move this? If you can, begin work on it. I need scouts heading in the other direction,” Winter ordered.

“Who says you’re in charge!?” Blue cried out indignantly, pouting and crossing her arms. By now, the constantly repeating alarm had fallen into the background.

“Yes, let’s keep arguing and standing in this corridor. That’s  _ bound _ to help us get out.” A distant thud had her hand fall to her saber. “Stop standing around. Move!”

“You know, he  _ did _ say the Trials have been lethal in the past…” Helia said almost offhandedly, her smaller voice seeming to remind everyone that their  _ lives _ could be at stake here. Winter jerked back in surprise as Helia’s voice came from above her head rather than below her shoulder. She was… flying? Her wings were out, but they were framed with glowing blue blades.

That was some - impressive technology. How had she  _ gotten _ it? Stolen? Made herself? If so, she’d have to be a prodigy, despite her blindness. 

A loud roar echoed through the facility, sending a shiver down everyone’s spine.

Had anyone headed out? She couldn’t tell. Too many unfamiliar faces, too many people to keep track of. A few were pawing at the concrete, pulling it away. Too slowly. The whole damn thing was taking far too long. If there were Grimm attacking, if there were  _ enough _ Grimm to breach the defenses, taking ten or more minutes to remove this breach was unacceptable. Where were the damn scouts?

She drew her saber with a slick rasp of metal on metal and strode into the corridor herself. 

It was dark - not the darkness of the house at night, with light through the windows, but the darkness of underground, a flat warm darkness that spoke of living things with claws lurking in it. 

She hadn’t ever faced a Grimm before. She knew about them. She’d done combat training. But she’d never faced one. Never killed one. What if - what if she couldn’t? 

That was foolish. She couldn’t possibly know that. And it wasn’t as though any of the others could be more capable - why, she was the only one out here actually  _ trying to do something _ \- 

“Hic!”

Winter didn’t jump, because that would imply she hadn’t noticed Helia following her.  

“So, uhh… whi- Hic!- which way are we-”

“Why.  Are you hiccuping?” Be polite, be firm but polite. Don’t shout at the poor damaged faunus girl for her  _ irritating habits _ or for  _ sneaking up on her like a thief _ \- 

“I dun- Hic!- …” she mumbled, before pausing and giving up, her cheeks puffing out as she took a deep breath and held it.

Winter couldn’t think of anything to say that could possibly explain this - this situation. So, instead, she stormed onwards. Foolish idiotic - idiotic  _ creature _ . Stumbling around blindly. Barely aware of anything at all. 

It was at that moment that a squat thing burst through the floor in red and white and black and lashed at her with its tail, spinning to bite at her with slavering jaws. 

“Hic!” A small thump came from behind Winter as Helia dropped to the ground, her knives slamming into the floor between the pair and the Grimm, locking together into a shield mesh. “Don’t get- Hic!- distracted!” Helia struggled to say, her arms windmilling as she stumbled away from the creature. 

“Don’t distract me then!” A Creep. Weakpoints in shoulders, stomach, strong jaws and legs. She readied her saber, looking for an opening - there, the mesh parted a little and she lunged, stabbing at the creature beyond. Resistance as blade hit flesh and flesh parted, but the Creep backed away, not yet dead. 

The shield-links split and the knives flew back into wing formation around Helia, who jumped over the Creep in a spinning dive. She launched those blades down without a gesture into the Grimm’s tail, feet, and the floor below, pinning it. 

The Creep screamed and Winter launched herself forward again in a fleche that speared through the beast’s mouth. It faded away into black flakes, then nothingness, but she still examined her saber to see if it needed cleaning. 

“Hic.”

“Damn it,  _ why!? _ ”

“I ‘unno.” 

The shrug she gave was  _ beyond  _ infuriating. “How - how -”

This girl had made sure Winter was in the same group as her. Knew she was watching as she changed despite her blindness then made - inappropriate and lewd comments on that fact. How could she not know why she had hiccups? Was it a further manipulation? Was it? 

...this was getting very silly. There could be no way a blind girl could  _ plan _ hiccups to irritate her. She was just being paranoid. 

But then Helia turned around  _ far _ too quickly and Winter could have sworn she saw a flash of smirk. “C’mon, we st- Hic!- still need to get out of h- Hic!- here,” she reminded the taller girl, floating into the air with the gentle hum of her knives. 

Winter strode forward. No signs, no indicators of a way out, but they’d gone  _ down _ . If they could find a stairwell, or something similar - she peered through the hole the Creep had made. Nothing. She couldn’t see anything down it. Hardly surprising, but she had hoped…

The next two doors were locked, another hallway blocked by rubble. She rounded the corner at a trot, hand ready to flex a glyph into existence. A small one with dark dust to hide in plain sight, obviously. She could pretend it was telekinesis or something.

And suddenly someone yelled in surprise and came to a screeching halt by slamming into the wall and bouncing off. The high-pitched squealing of their shoes grated on Winter’s already shot nerves. “Ow, DAMNIT!” the young man exclaimed, taking a few wild stumbling steps to regain his balance. “Yo, Deathstroke, wet floors- well  _ hello _ ladies,” he said, suddenly changing tunes as he spotted the pair, sweeping a hand through his hair- it didn’t help. “Hi, I’m Maverick, I don’t suppose either of you know the way out?”

“Get out of our way.” Despite his build, the  _ boy _ was clearly a fool. As evidenced by the fact that he was smirking at them under a fringe of orange-blond hair rather than actually getting on with getting out of the Grimm-infested base. “Allow me to rephrase; get out of our way or I will make you get out of our way.”

He grinned. He just grinned at them. “Of course, Miladies,” he said, bowing before spotting someone coming from down the hall and bursting into laughter as he broke into a sprint past the girls. “See ya round, Ice Queen!”

What a lout. The nickname was most likely coincidence, but the cheek - 

“You little shit, get back here -” The figure skidded past, dressed in heavy black and orange combat armour, before slamming into the wall much as the boy before had. “Fucking damn it!” He recovered far faster though, already running after the other. 

Helia slid up against the wall out of his way and pointed in the direction Maverick had gone. “He went left.”

“Thanks, kid,” he said, running past. Winter thought she saw a flash of a smile as he too disappeared round the corner

Helia smiled and stuck her tongue out at Winter. “See,  _ someone _ appreciates me.” 

She did her best not to roll her eyes or smile. Encouraging her would be a bad move. But - “You can’t see though.”

“No shit, your highness.” 

Winter was about to reply, but something…  _ happened. _ One moment she had steady footing, the next she had to reach out to grab onto- but it slammed into her side and a roaring filled her ears and Helia was screaming and clinging to her and they were bouncing around the hallway-

A chunk of ceiling fell with a crash and filled the air with dust, leaving the pair wedged between a rock and a concrete slab as their stomachs churned and the ground under them couldn’t make up it’s mind -

Winter tried to stand, but she couldn’t. There was no resistance like walking around on a turbulent airship, it was simply… her feet were moving but her body wasn’t. She loosened her muscles, trying to ride the waves- It simply didn’t work. She was flung about like a rag in a tumbler until it mercifully ended. 

Helia was still screaming and clinging to her for a solid minute after it ended. Winter hadn’t even realised the roaring had stopped - her ears were still ringing. 

“Helia. Helia!” She shook her a little in the confined space. “Are you injured?” She flexed her own limbs a little - no abnormal aches or pains. Some scrapes, and far too much dirt, but no injuries. Lucky. 

And then she inspected Helia, her screaming dying down to pained whimpers - at first glance, it didn’t look like anything was wrong. And then she saw the horrific angle Helia’s left wing most definitely should not be hanging at. 

Winter’s eyes didn’t bulge, nor did her brain scream loud obscenities at her - was her bone structure different in her wing like in birds, how did you deal with a broken wing, how did you deal with a broken  _ limb _ , she’d never broken anything how, how, how? Helia was gripping her, those miserable little exhalations of air - she didn’t - she didn’t know what to do - 

“Hold still, ok? Moving will probab - will make it worse. I’m going to try and get a better look at it, ok?”

Helia winced but nodded, burying her face in Winter. When Winter moved, she gasped and twitched, holding on tighter in pain even though the older girl hadn’t even touched her yet. 

Her wing was - the middle part of it’s bone seemed to be  _ gone _ . The whole thing hung loose and twisted, like paper, tiny feathers rumpled and broken by whatever blow had struck it. Winter’s vague thoughts of a splint died quickly - straightening it out to apply something like that would put the poor girl through agony. 

But she had to keep it still, somehow. Maybe…

She fumbled for her lightning dust. She’d learnt this glyph a few days ago - well, a variation on it, and it shouldn’t be hard to apply it to just Helia’s wing - 

“Wh- what are you…” the tiny girl rasped, her breathing coming in shuddering, torture-filled gasps, “Doing?”

“I’m going to try something to keep your wing still so you can move with it. Then - then I’m going to blast this wreckage off us and we’ll get going.” Winter lifted the dust bottle to her mouth and gently pulled the cork with her teeth. Idly she noted the alarms were silent - likely the result of the quake. “This might sting, ok?”

Helia whimpered and nodded. Her tears had gotten past the blindfold and were working on soaking Winter’s uniform.

She flicked her fingers, spilling a tiny fraction of the bottle’s contents onto the wing and extending her fingers as she did so, a glowing image of a clock settling onto the limb, hands moving slower and slower as she  _ willed _ the clock to stop, to keep the wing as it was. She could speed herself up, the principle was the same, she just - had - to - 

A thick gold glow settled over the wing, which no longer moved with her shuddering breaths. Winter shook a stray strand of hair from her face. That had been exhausting. But the best solution to the problem. 

Helia’s grip on her quickly loosened as the girl fell limp with relief. “Th-thhan…” she murmured before collapsing against her, unconscious.

“Helia!?” She checked her pulse - alive, breathing, fine. Allowed herself a sigh of relief. Not that she - she’d just met this girl, but anyone dying on top of you would be upsetting. And likely regarded as poor effort by the academy. She twisted her fingers further, summoning black repulsion glyphs that began to shoot the stone around the away, positioning them carefully to remove those blocks that might fall on them otherwise  _ first _ . 

She slowly eased herself upright in the darkness and, cradling the faunus, set off into the corridors.

-.-.-


	3. Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, any feedback appreciated and thanks to WhoAmEye.

-.-.-

“God _damn_ ,” Maverick grunted, picking himself up off the thankfully no longer moving floor. He got to his feet and stumbled a few steps before bracing himself against the wall. “I knew the Trials were going to be bullshit, but _that,_ ” he gestured to the wall that now had a slight splatter of blood from his crunched nose, “Is just not cool.”

He patted himself down, made sure nothing was broken, and frowned. The alarms were off. The emergency lighting was failing. And of course he could hear- or more accurately _feel_ \- the heavy footsteps of something moving.

Oh, and the enraged yelling. That was always a good indicator of something gone wrong.

“I’m coming for ya, buddy!” he yelled, pulling his goggles down over his eyes and lighting up the world in spectacular orange. He sprinted down one, two corridors before barging into a room that had a fair sight more rubble down the far end.

And a big ugly Grimm jumping around dodging Dust shells coming from a particularly spacious looking slab.

“Heyyy, buddy!” Maverick grinned, pulling a pair of pistols out of the holsters at his thighs. “I’ve come to save you!”

He knew it’d get on ol’ Deathstroke’s nerves. The cheery joker saving the oh-so-serious Hunter-in-Training. That was why he did it after all.

The scene was pretty Grimm - heh, that was awful of him. Ol’ buddy McHardass had one leg stuck under that slab, his hands gripping his… standard issue Atlesian military pistol? Did he not have a proper weapon? Anyway, he was pumping shots into the beast, keeping it at bay. Still hadn’t cracked a smile, though maybe in this situation that was less surprising.

“Hey, numb-skull!” Maverick shouted, firing a few bolts at the creature’s thick hide. They didn’t quite penetrate before they exploded, leaving the Creep with leathery chunks missing instead of entire holes blown in its leg. It spun - one of the big ones, large enough to shake the corridor as it ran screeching at him.

“OH SHIT!” he shouted on reaction, the shaking floor making him lose his footing- _again?!_ \- and fall backwards. With a small rush of light, he landed next to Slade, rolling on his back to kickflip himself to his feet again. “Need some help?” he asked, offering his hand as the Grimm continued charging at where he had been.

“I’m trapped under a rock, Wilson.” Slade rolled his eyes. “Getting up might be a bit -” His expression focused and he re-aimed the pistol pulling the trigger in three short bursts at the Grimm.  

“Easy?” Maverick grinned, grabbing the neck of Slade’s tactical vest and _pulled_ them to the other side of the room in a twisted tunnel of space, hitting the ground just as the Creep slammed into the wall and shook the entire room. Rubble almost predictably fell on the spot Slade had been stuck in moments ago, shattering the slab and crushing whatever was left under it.

Taking a moment to line up a decent shot with the staggered Grimm’s head, Maverick fired a bolt into its eye. One muffled _whumph_ and a splatter of red and black from it’s eye sockets later, the creature fell and started disintegrating.

“Thanks.” Slade’s speech wasn’t as grudging as he’d hoped, but - was that a smile? By his shiny shoes it was! Not a large one, but a smile, nonetheless. “You’re a good shot.”

“Maybe I could teach you a couple of tricks sometime,” Maverick grinned, lightly bumping Slade with his elbow. “The first one is to _get a decent weapon._ Seriously, that gun you’ve got? It’s not gonna do a thing to a Grimm worth a damn.”

“It’s not my only damn weapon, and it was the only one I could draw after that earthquake. It’s also a _situational_ weapon.” His lips twisted. “And I can’t build my own weapons. Never got the knack. So commercial bought it is.”

Maverick’s face screwed up in distaste as he pulled a third, rather large pistol out of his holder and dumped it in Slade’s hand. “Here.” The thing was heavy- almost 8kg of gun- and had some brutal looking blades attached to the end. “Forty rounds, full auto, think of it as a railroad-spike shooting machine gun.”

“... thanks again, I guess, even if the ergonomics are fucked.” He sighted down it briefly then looked over at Maverick. “Why give me one of your weapons?”

“I’ve got plenty more.” Maverick shrugged. “You look like you’d be a helluva Hunter… if you were armed properly.” Aaaand his infuriating grin was back.

“I don’t need to be armed properly. I can and have killed a Grimm with a fucking stick. Boy.” His teeth were bared, white and gleaming in the darkness - then he stepped back. “But we should get on with this. Try and get out before more serious fuckers show up.”

“One day you should pull that stick out your ass and kill another Grimm with it,” Maverick gave Slade his best shit-eating grin as he prepared to run.

“Just - don’t tempt me.”

“No promises.”

-.-.-

Yolona bared her teeth in a predatory grin as she and the Grimm circled each other. It made a move and she banged her sword against her shield twice, sending the thundering clangs echoing down the halls.

Creeps. Dwellers of the ground, their eyesight wasn’t the sense they relied on.

The thing shrieked a hiss at her and bristled, clawing at the ground. That was usually a sign they were about to charge. Yolona let out a roar as she smashed her shield into the ground again, activating the spikes as she charged at it herself.

The Grimm threw its head back- it was going to try headbutt her with its maul-like skull- and that was not its first mistake. Yolona slammed into it and her shield struck home in its soft underbelly, catching and holding it as she continued charging down the hallway. It writhed and screamed and bled as it’s tail dragged along the coarse floor and caught on rubble.

“Hey, what’s-”

“HOLY-”

Two irritatingly high-pitched voices shrieked from down the hallway, thankfully fleeing quickly. The noise grated on Yolona’s ears. The Creep tried to claw at her around the shield, but it only got one foot hooked on her shoulder before-

The pitiful creature’s shrieking stopped with a thundering crash as Yolona hit the wall, crushing it between her and a hard place. One thing she found quite nice about slamming things into walls was that whatever she was trying to kill provided the most satisfying cushioning on impact.

She stepped back and slammed her shield into the floor, retracting the spikes and letting the dissipating corpse fall to the ground.

“Hmph.”

She’d faced Grimm more challenging than that before. And of course, the main reason she was here was to face more worthwhile foes. So far, she was rather disappointed. A second beastly outcry didn’t raise her hopes in the slightest - but it was worth investigating. She could already feel her Semblance starting to decay.

Lighting up her shield again, Yolona made her way down the corridor with heavy steps, rounding the corner in a battle-ready stance.

Another Creep. Was this all that had caused the alarms? She cracked her neck and -

A whistling whirling vertical whirlwind of a shape cleaved the Grimm in half. The figure bounced off the wall, landing in a low crouch, a bladed dagger snapping back into their gauntlet.

The girl with the sword. Flashy manoeuvre.

“Good kill,” Yolona grunted begrudgingly, heaving her shield up into a more comfortable resting position and collapsing her sword to store against her back. She wasn’t secretly considering the other girl a kill-stealer, was she? Working in an environment with other potential Hunters and Huntresses was… new to her.

“Should’ve got it before it went round the corner.” She hefted her sword from the ground, rested it on her shoulder. “Think this is real?”

Yolona snorted. “Real. Quakes cannot be faked. Nor can Grimm,” she rumbled, kicking what remained of the creature’s head.

“Grimm can be captured. And the Creeps burrowing in here -” She shrugged. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

“Hmph. I was told the Trials were challenging.”

“Then the Grimm aren’t the challenge.”

“DAMNIT, NOT ANOTHER DEAD END!” one of the high-pitched squealers whined loudly, her voice travelling terribly well through the corridors.

“I _told_ you we shouldn’t have-”

“SHUT _UP_ , YOU OVERCONTROLLING FUCKWIT!”

Yolona scowled. “The challenge must be dealing with these… _children._ ” she grunted, bringing up her shield for light and heading down a different hall, one that was hopefully away from the irritants.

The girl was following her, watching over her like a vulture. Hmph. She hadn’t expected that.

They continued on in silence. Watching the darkness. Waiting for something to leap out at them. But nothing did, and several intersections later, it felt like they were in the same place they’d left. “This place is a labyrinth.” Yolona growled, stopping at the… another crossroads.

“Hmm. Look at this.” The Watcher was looking at an etched metal plate on the wall - coloured symbols, lines, half coated with dust and dented by debris. “It doesn’t - work, though. The corridors on it don’t line up to those we’ve come down. Not enough turns.”

Yolona peered at the wall, bringing her shield up so she could see. “Hmph, good eyes,” she mumbled the compliment, not seeing any gear over the Watcher’s eyes. A faunus, perhaps? They could see much better than she could in the dark. “Useless map,” she growled.

“Might be a pattern to the changes. Would take too long to work out though.” The Watcher’s jaw shifted under their collar. “Hm.” The dagger popped from her gauntlet and she carefully levered the map from the wall, holding it up to hide her face. “I can study it as we walk. Might help me work it out faster.”

Yolona frowned, spotting something colourful on the back from the light of her shield. “Other side.” she ordered.

The Watcher turned the slab, looking for a moment, barely visible face scrunching into a frown. “It’s another map. In worse condition, far cruder. But, I believe, more accurate.” She looked up. “Good catch.”

Yolona grinned under her helmet. “Now we leave.”

-.-.-

At some point, Winter had become aware of how horribly _light_ Helia was. It should’ve been a relief, not to heft some brutish weight around, but instead all she could think of was that she weighed less than her sister - her prepubescent sister. She could feel the bones of her spine through her neck. Her legs, stick thin. It was a wonder she could stand at all, even before -

She hefted her a little higher. Didn’t want to drop her.

She’d been moving at a swift jog for the past few minutes. Still no sign of an exit. Damn. Or at least, nothing that _looked_ like an exit. There had been one white, rounded door, almost akin to an airlock, but she doubted that would lead to a stairwell up.

A second door. Hm.

A vehicle bay, maybe. Or some sort of engineering lab. Or a laboratory in general. Though given the earthquake, the risk of dangerous chemical spills was - high. But acceptable, in preference to Grimm and darkness, and her fading timestop on Helia’s wing.

She adjusted Helia slightly, trying to fumble for a handle, or something that might open the door. The faunus twitched in her grasp and she slowed, trying to keep her steady.

“Hhnn…” Helia mumbled, her breathing quickening as her face screwed up in pain. Her eyes started fluttering with each step. “Whh…”

“Shh, it’s ok.” She would think of her as like Weiss when Weiss had eaten too much sugar and crashed. “We’re going to get you upstairs and somewhere comfortable. And get your wing looked at.”

“Ahhnn…” Helia gasped as Winter stopped, trying to move slightly before quickly giving up on that notion. “Hnn, th-h-thanks, W-Winnnter…” she moaned, her eyes staying shut as her head lolled limply.

“What did you call me?” She hadn’t said her name, how had she known, how had she _known_?!

But the faunus was unconscious again.

Winter was still trying to get the… possibly garage door open when she heard someone coming down one of the adjacent corridors. Heavy footsteps. _Really_ heavy. A large Grimm? No, too uniform, too much with the rhythm of human feet. Perhaps an Atlesian military mech, such as those her father had bought to defend -

The drunken giant from earlier rounded the corner at a steady jog as a sudden series of hearty clacks and hisses traveled down the other hall. A momentary burst of gunfire was interrupted by a roar that Winter knew Creeps did _not_ make.

The giant cursed loudly as she slammed her shield into the ground and unfolded her sword, getting into a battle-ready position. “Watcher!” she bellowed, smashing the sword against the shield and sending thunder echoing down the halls.

“Right behind you, Bastion.” Something - some _one_ \- shot over the giant - over Bastion’s head, a cross between a sword and a spear brandished in one hand and a near invisible coiling loop of rope pulling them onward in the other.

Something was coming, that much was clear. But - with the girl in her arms, she couldn’t fight. And putting her down - what if there was another quake, or whatever it was got _past_ her? No, she’d observe for now. She _wished_ she could use her glyphs.

The sound of skitters and gunfire came closer. Winter could see the bursts of light getting brighter with every moment. “ _SKREEEE!!_ ”

“ _How the fuck did you think that would work, you_ moron!”

“ _I didn’t! It was for_ SCIENCE!”

“How is _poke the Grimm with your bayonet_ science!?”

“Trial and er- OOF!” the voice - that annoyingly familiar voice - was cut off with a _whumpf_ as the Grimm must have hit him and thrown him away - and there was Maverick, flying through the air with his limbs flailing. His companion was right. He _was_ a moron.

One final burst of gunfire and several hearty shots chipped away at armour before several much smaller clicks rang out. “Fuck.” Then the more heavily armoured of the pair hurtled past as well. “ _SKREEE!!”_

The noise. The inability of their weapons to do damage. The _noise_.

It had to be a Deathstalker. One of the more dangerous Grimm. Resilient, strong, venomous.

Bastion slammed her shield into the ground- as she seemed so very fond of doing- and pulled up her sword, which… _cannonised_ itself. The handle shifted, the blade split, and Winter found herself staring at some sort of Dust cannon. Bastion leveled it at the beast and roared a challenge as it charged up, glowing brighter every moment.

Then it unleashed a glowing ball of lightning, visible for an instant, before it zoomed into the darkness.  

The Deathstalker’s screeching was cut off for a moment as a bright light flashed through the hall, stray arcs sparking off the metal surfaces in the area. Winter felt her hairs stand on end with the residual static energy sweeping over her.

The other girl - Watcher, backflipped back into view, sword swinging in an arcing cut at something out of sight. Even as she struck, the huge gold stinger of the Grimm struck back - but she rolled aside.

“Gahahaaaa!” Helia was suddenly awake and twitching and trying to scream- but her voice wouldn’t raise past a whisper as she struggled and writhed in Winter’s grip.

“Helia, stay still, please.” The sword clattered off chitin as Watcher span again, this time a leaping circle across the floor. But the blade was too high angled. Another blast from the giant’s cannon, but again, nowhere that would do _real_ damage. “Helia, we don’t want to draw attention from -”

The Deathstalker’s claws lashed out, pinching and snapping at the air as it turned to look at them and _roared_.

Several rounds pinged off the Grimm’s carapace around its eyes. “Over here, ya fugly git!” Maverick yelled out, waving his arms. The Deathstalker barely even gave him a glance before ignoring him.

So he shot it in the face with a flare.

“That’s not going to work!” His heavily armoured companion stood, having reloaded their brutish looking rifle and fired a burst.

 _But it could work_. Winter grinned, then shouted, “Get the flares in its mouth! You, boy with the spikes, try to pop its eyes - fire when its armoured eyelids aren’t closed.”

Maverick’s next shot went wide as he burst into laughter. “Boy with the spikes!” he exclaimed, quickly running away from brute in case he decided to switch targets.

The boy in question growled but kept up steady burst fire.

Maverick pushed against the wall, bringing up his guns and sliding to a halt in front of Winter and her charge. “Open up!” he yelled, that insane grin on his face as the Grimm did just that, opening its mouth to roar and rearing back to sting him.

Behind it, the giantess roared as her cannon reformed into a sword - and blades flipped out at the end, transforming it into some kind of… bladed pickaxe-scythe? She twisted around, making a full turn before swinging the blade and hooking it around the tail as the Deathstalker reared back, pinning it and her blade into the ground.

“Remove the stinger!” Winter ordered, shoving Maverick away from herself and her fragile charge. The _last_ thing she wanted was the Deathstalker’s attention in her direction.

Answering the call, Watcher spun again, launching into the air, whirling like a Boarbatusk as she came down on the joint between the stinger and the tail itself, slicing it free. The Deathstalker let out a pained, fire-mouthed shriek as it flailed, unable to move forward or back and waving it’s pincers around in a desperate attempt to hit something as the fallen stinger pierced its bony carapace.

Winter stood still - she couldn’t drop Helia and draw her saber. She couldn’t use her glyphs without revealing her identity. With how close her fellow would-be-students stood to the Grimm, they would invariably see _something_.

But she could end it here. Hold its limbs in place, freeze it, burn it, launch it. One pincer smacked into Watcher as it flailed. The other barely missed severing that moron Maverick’s leg.

No. She’d have to risk it.

She adjusted Helia’s position in her arms, extending a hand and flicking two of her fingers. A repulsion glyph in a loose piece of the ceiling, primed and ready to fire. The grimm wasn’t under it though - she whistled sharply and the beast spun to look at her. “Here, Grimm. I’m unarmed. Come fight me.”

The beast chittered, roared, and scurried forward, fast - it was so big -

She launched the piece of rubble down into the stinger.

In hindsight, maybe she should have put a tad bit _less_ power into that glyph. In the blink of an eye, she’d gone from staring insectoid death in the gaping maw to scrambling to keep herself from falling on Helia as the floor shook and bright red gore splattered around them, the thundering boom of impact leaving her ears ringing.

Winter almost jumped in fright as the rear end of the corpse slid to a stop, nudging her outstretched leg. It was… steaming?

As the ragtag group picked themselves up, the Deathstalker’s muscles started relaxing, leading to the almost comical view of its remains slumping to the ground.

“HOLY FUCK THAT WAS TOTALLY WICKED!” Maverick exclaimed, an insane, idiotic grin plastered on his face as he looked back and forth between Winter and the decaying corpse, gesturing wildly in his unbound excitement.

The orange armoured figure beside him tilted his head. “That was...something.” He grinned. “Good job. However you did that.”

Bastion’s sword folded down as she holstered it on her back. Nodding to Winter, she chuckled heartily. “Yes. Good kill.”

Watched simply nodded, hilt of their spear sliding back down and into the greatsword Winter recognised from the locker room.

“It was nothing. Really.” As nice as it was to receive praise, too much attention on her glyph-use wasn’t what she wanted. “You all had done far more damage to it, I simply delivered the killing blow.”

“Buuullsshiiit…” Helia’s whispered voice came from somewhere buried in her side. Her weak coughing as the dust settled didn’t help. Her wing was barely frozen and oh god, Winter must have jostled her while making the glyph. She hoisted her more carefully back into her arms.

“Hey uh- is she okay?” Maverick asked, quietening down for a moment. For such an irresponsible jackass he was showing an awful lot of concern for her wellbeing.

“No. The earthquake hurt her considerably.” Winter glared at him over Helia’s body.

A sudden _ka-chunk_ and a hiss behind them drew their attention to the door. Bastion pulled up her shield and sword again. Maverick shifted stance and had one hand in his holster. Watcher adopted a low stance, sword held to one side as Deathstroke readied that heavy bladed rifle he held.

When the door finally slid open, bathing the group in light…

“Ah, good, you’re all still alive.” Ironwood’s strong voice rang out, causing everyone to immediately put away their weapons and stand down.

Helia grabbed on to Winter, holding up one arm to get the General’s attention as she croaked out, “Medic, please…”

Winter glanced down at her, making sure she was - oh god - her blindfold had slipped and was tangled up in her hair, but that wasn’t the part that made Winter’s throat close up. H-her eyes, they - that soft baby blue, her snow white skin, it- she-

_Weiss is hurt what do I do I need to do something oh god hold on sis it’ll be okay oh please let it be okay I’m here I’m here Weiss I’ll make it okay-_

“How. _Dare_. You.”

She didn’t realise she was speaking until she’d started, a low animal growl from somewhere deep in her brain.

“How dare you, general. How dare you appear and _comment_ on our survival as though it was a _charming breakfast arrangement_ . You have _failed_ your Kingdom - Grimm attacked this base during the Trials and broke in and your students are hurt and all you say is ‘Ah, good,’ like some insipid - insipid _nurse_?”

Ironwood folded his arms and opened his mouth, half smiling, but Winter continued.

“Such callousness is _unacceptable_ . How _dare_ you stand there and act as though nothing has occurred that is unexpected. You should be fired - no, executed for gross misconduct and inability to prepare adequately. How was the earthquake not detected?”

“Miss -”

“ _Don’t you ‘miss’ me_ .” Winter’s hand dropped to her saber. A second later she recoiled in shock as someone stuck their finger up her nose. Looking down at her assailant - _oh no_ \- her throat clenched and her heart throbbed. Weiss used to do that when she was young _and fragile and come here you poor baby I’m here for you Weiss I promise I’ll always be here for you -_

“Miss Winter.” Ironwood’s voice was soft. He was still smiling, the bastard. “Your fire in defence of those under your command is commendable. And were this an accident, you would be correct, I would deserve court martial. But instead, I must congratulate all of you on passing the first stage of the Trials.” He smiled a little wider. “Even if they were… shaken up a little. Well done.”

Behind him, a trio of Technical Support Officers came into view. Two carried a stretcher between them and set it down next to Weiss, detangling the winged faunus from Winter. “We’ll take her to the medbays,” one of them reassured her, his data-visor clearing up.

Winter let out a choked thank you- or she tried, at least. The TSO’s features softened slightly.

“You can keep her company,” he suggested, standing up. Weiss - Helia, damnit - moaned in pain from behind him.

“Y-yes. I think I will.” Winter nodded, focusing on W- Helia. Helia. _Focus, Winter, you know they’re not the same._

Ironwood stepped aside and nodded to the rest of the prospective Hunters. “We should get moving. You aren’t the only ragtag squad that got through this incident scathed and regrouping the Streams is our main priority right now.”

Winter had to shield her eyes from the light after so long in the darkness. As she followed them deeper into the heart of the landscape, she wondered… _do the tunnels ever end?_


	4. Rest and Reload

-.-.-

She looked so peaceful. So much like Weiss.

They’d finished scanning and x-raying her not five minutes ago. Winter huffed. She should have spent the time cleaning up - looking at herself now, in the light, she was coated in dirt. Not that it really mattered, she supposed. Dirt was just - cosmetic. It wasn’t real damage. 

Not like Helia’s wing. 

She looked so peaceful, lying there on her back, her wings draped down her sides. Even her mangled wing looked relatively intact with the way they’d positioned it for scanning. Her chest rose and fell evenly in her sleep. 

Her agonised screaming apparently convinced them to give her the good stuff. She was asleep, completely and utterly. Away from the hurt. 

She even slept with an arm half curled round her face like Weiss did. 

Enough. She - looked similar but was not the same. She was a blind faunus, not her sister. This - obsession with noticing similarities was not acceptable. 

W- Helia let out a small, adorable squeak, turning her head slightly. Just like Weiss did when she was having a nice dream.

Winter put her head in her hands. Weiss was at home. Weiss was at home, hopefully safe. Weiss wouldn’t disguise herself as a half-starved faunus - somehow - then flirt with her. She wouldn’t have access to strange jetpack blade technology - actually, she might. 

No, no. Winter was not entertaining that thought. That was silly.

But then again… No! Bad Winter!

She let out a strangled groan. There was no  _ possible _ way Helia could be Weiss in disguise. 

But it  _ would _ explain how she knew Winter’s name…

No. There was one way to absolutely guarantee they were different little balls of love and adorableness and that was to call Weiss. If she answered, then she obviously wasn’t Helia. She’d have to make sure father didn’t pick up, and not use her scroll - wait, there was a comms terminal just there. 

Two minutes later, she was still calling Weiss, biting her lip and desperately hoping she’d answer. Between the several failed calls and the constant glances she was shooting at Helia, she was going to do herself in with worry. 

“ _ Hello, it looks like whoever you’re trying to call cannot answer at the moment. Please leave a message after the tone for _ -” and then Weiss’ voice, trying to sound more adult than it was “ _ \- Weiss Schnee, Heiress _ .”  

That little brat. If she had to listen to her call herself heiress one more time - 

She bit her lip. It was stupid. There was no way Helia was Weiss. Right? To get such a thorough disguise, and fool medical professionals and - and disguising herself as a faunus wouldn’t be Weiss’ style, anyway. She was reading too much into this. 

But then again… Winter herself was here, completely going against her own style. Weiss had always looked up to her and it wouldn’t take much for her to try follow in her big sister’s footsteps… would it?

“Hhhnnn…” Winter’s attention was brought back to W- Helia again as she moaned out a small yawn, her arm flopping against her bed as she tried to stretch a little. “Hmmrgle…” she smiled and scrunched up her nose in the most adorable way, her eyes barely cracking open. That- that was something Winter had only ever seen Weiss do, and that was when she woke up in a really cuddly mood. 

Only one way to know for sure. “Weissy.” She did her best not to blush. If she was wrong... “Weissy wake up.” She only did this singsong voice for her sister when she was very ill, she’d better appreciate it -

Weiss giggled and smiled, seeing Winter and reaching out to her. It was her own way of asking for cuddles. When she was still too sleepy to think straight, she got very snuggly, very touchy-feely. 

Winter’s eyes narrowed. “Weiss. What. Are. You.  _ Doing _ ?!” Somehow the last word had come out as an unco-ordinated shriek of rage. “You could have been killed! You could be killed! Your combat training is minimal at best - no, even if father drags me from here I’m calling him to drag you away too.”

Weiss whimpered and shrunk away, her lips trembling, her baby blue eyes filling with unshed tears. No words came out, just a quiet whine of confusion and  _ hurt. _

“Weiss, I just don’t understand why. Or how you found out, either. You know how dangerous the Academy is.” She leaned forward, rested a hand on her shoulder. “Why - just -  _ why _ ?”

Weiss’s eyes went wide for a moment, before she closed them and happily started nuzzling Winter’s hand with the goofiest smile on her face, bringing her arms up and trapping Winter in what was honestly the weakest grip she’d ever felt. “Mmmm b-best big sisterrr…” Weiss mumbled, trailing off into a sleepy purr.

“Weiss. Weiss, now is not the time for hugs.” She still wrapped her arms round her. “Weiss. I need to talk to you.” 

Weiss stiffened slightly in her grip as she bumped the broken wing. “Ah-hh!” she gasped, clinging on and grabbing little handfuls of Winter’s jacket.

Wait, what? The wing wasn’t real, right? It shouldn’t hurt Weiss -

The incoming message chime from the terminal filled the room. 

For several agonising moments, Winter worked to untangle herself from Weiss’s grip without hurting her more, while still being quick enough to answer the call. On the second to last chime, she finally dashed over and pressed the accept call button before she slipped and landed with a painful thump. 

“H- hello?” Weiss’s clearly confused voice came from the terminal before Winter jumped to her feet. The call- oh Dust, she’d accidentally hit video. “Winter? Is that you?” 

“No?”

…

That was weak. She barely even fooled herself. 

Weiss gave her a deadpan look. “You’re filthy.” she noted, before her expression shifted to one of concern. “And where have you  _ been? _ Father has been pacing around muttering about you, nobody will tell me anything, and - wait, did you get a  _ haircut? _ ” Weiss looked at her incredulously. 

“It’s complicated. Don’t tell father I called. Please?” Then - “You’re at home? Safe?”

“Yeeess…” Weiss frowned, drawing out the word. “Hang on, are you this Dave Kowalski who called me nineteen times?” she asked, before sighing. “Winter,  _ what is going on? _ ” 

“Bad connection talk to you later!” Winter hammered on the end call button frantically. 

“Winter, don’t you -”

The feed cut off with a cheery little blip from the terminal. “ _ Call terminated. _ ”

Winter looked round slowly. 

Helia sat on the bed, holding out her arms, pouting. “Cuddliiieees!” she said, weakly but firmly. She still had the silliest of smiles on her face.  

She had just shouted at her. For being her sister. She - the resemblance wasn’t even that strong, now she looked. Their noses were different, the shapes of their jaw. Slowly she moved over to hug Helia, who made some sort of jubilant noise muffled by her clothing. 

Once Helia stopped being drugged, Winter was never going to live this down. If her father didn’t find her and remove her. 

But for now, she could enjoy it.

-.-.-

Ashlyn Krieger sat there on the couch looking broody. Her hair, her choice of outfit, hell, her appearance in general made her look like the postergirl of one of those super-emotional ‘I write depressing poetry and turn it into lyrics’ bands. Black, black, and more black.

The fact that her axe was also a guitar…

She sighed with a slump, putting her face in her hand.

The girl who was sat next to her looked, in her opinion, even worse. Heavy black eyeshadow, entirely black clothes with strategically placed rips revealing tattooed skin, black lipstick, pale enough to look like an old black and white movie. 

Which of course was made worse by how cheery she was. 

“So do you think we did ok? I mean, we were told we passed. But I don’t think they’d tell us right up if we failed, right?”

“We’re still alive, Aphoth,” Ashlyn groaned. “That has to count for  _ something _ .”

Catching those occasional weirded out, disapproving glances was wearing down on her. In hindsight, black leather and belts and studs wasn’t the most… sightly of choices she could have made. Even with the armour plates she’d painstakingly sewn in, she was eyeing up some of the more colourful outfits and sorely wishing she’d reconsidered.

“I dunno. I blasted a wall open, and then when I Called those Creeps I didn’t know there’d been a dead Alpha there recently too.” Aphoth fiddled with her necklace. “Do you - do you think they minded that?”

“ _ Everyone _ minds it when Grimm suddenly fight on your side.” Ash rolled her eyes. “It’s kinda unnerving to those who aren’t used to it.”

“Aren’t used to what?” Some orange-haired kid vaulted over the back of the couch next to them, flopping down lazily. He wore a stupid-looking grin that set off all the warning bells in Ashlyn’s head.

Aphoth blushed, because of course she did. “N-nothing. Just my semblance bothers some people.”

“Can’t be any worse than that girl that makes everyone take a bad acid trip,” the kid laughed. “Hi, I’m Maverick.”

“Ashlyn.” She scowled. “It’s not polite to listen in to private conversations.”

“It’s ok Ash.” One fishnet gloved hand gently patted her own. “People can be curious. And I’m not ashamed of my semblance. It’s just - raising the dead does disconcert some people.” She smiled, sunnily. 

_ Goddamnit, Aphy, why do you do this to me?! Can’t you see he’s trouble?! _

Maverick’s eyes widened comically. “You’re a necromancer?!” he exclaimed- thankfully not too loudly, although he did attract the attention of one rather grumpy-looking individual...

“Uh - I guess?” Aphoth was biting her lip. She was nervous, and when she was nervous - 

A hiss from her neck as her pet uncoiled itself, smelling its owner’s fear. Its little black tongue flicked the air as it turned curiously to look at the boy beside them. 

“Holy shit you’ve got a snake?!” he grinned massively, almost bouncing up and down in his seat. “That’s totally awes-”

He was cut off by a slap to the back of the head.

The grumpy boy leaned forward. “Diamond tooth taipan. The venom can kill a Borbatusk. Why the  _ fuck _ would you have one as a  _ pet _ ?”

Aphoth scowled. It wasn’t really very threatening, despite everything. “Hey! Apep’s a cutie and doesn’t bite anyone. Anymore.”

“Because they’re already dead?”

“Because we learned our lesson and so did he.” Ash interrupted. “Do you really think she’d wear it like a scarf if there was a chance of him biting her?”

Maverick winced and rubbed the back of his head. “Still awesome.”

Aphoth rocked back and forth a bit, Apep rocking with her. “So...you two know each other?”

Grinning that insane grin, Maverick got comfortable. “I totally saved his life in the earthquake thing.”

“You gave me a hand after I’d injured myself chasing after your worthless hide at best.” Despite the words, grumpy grinned. 

Ash managed to crack a small smile. “I agree. With the worthless hide part.” she said, gently nudging Aphoth with her elbow.  _ Take the hint and stop drooling, Aphy. _

“It was interesting though, because I heard it coming. Sort of. The Alpha did, anyway, which is how we survived.” Aphoth smiled. “It gave its life again to shelter ours. Which was lovely of it.”

“Yes. Lovely.” Ash rolled her eyes. 

“It  _ was _ lovely. It saw us as its pack. Or something. Really, their minds are really interesting. Grimm, I mean. They feel so  _ funny _ to Call, mostly because their bodies don’t exist any more.”

“This is terrifying and intriguing.” Maverick said, a plain expression on his face. “Tell us more.”

Seeing Aphoth practically salivate at the chance to go in-depth, Ash internally grimaced and tried to direct the conversation elsewhere. “Hey, have you heard what the TSO’s have been muttering about? Something about a Deathstalker cave in the East Wing.”

“That’d explain the one we fought. And helped kill.” Grumpy casually stroked his chin - wait, they’d  _ what _ ?!

“You  _ what?! _ ” Ash exclaimed before quickly shutting up and clamping her hands over her mouth.

“We  _ killed  _ a  _ Deathstalker. _ ” Maverick confirmed. “Well, actually we just shot at it a bunch, cut off it’s stinger, pinned it, and then the Ice Queen shoved the ceiling through it’s skull.” 

Aphoth froze. “Ice Queen?” Her voice was very careful. “The girl with the white hair, right?”

Ash had seen Aphy watch her from across the changing room. Like - like she was starving. It was the closest to real, genuine anger Ash had ever seen her display. She thought she knew why - Aphoth had never said, but she’d said enough clues. Enough things to fill in the blanks. 

“Yeah. Had that tiny little angel Faunus clinging to her the entire time she shouted orders at us.” Maverick said off-handedly, obviously failing to catch Aphoth’s distress. 

“Mmm.” Aphoth petted her snake, eyes half closed. “A Faunus. That’s surprising.”

Ash let her eyes wander for a moment, crisis hopefully averted… though she doubted it and- oh wow, Grumpy Guy was pretty buff. He had that air of strength about him, that kind of firm toughness she’d expect from someone who’d never back down, never give up -

Aphoth’s elbow and smirk were very irritating. She most definitely hadn’t been drooling. She’d just been - appreciating. 

“So, what’s your name…?” she asked, looking back at Hotty McHot. Err, Grumpy. 

“Slade. Slade Coal.” He smiled. 

Ash nearly melted on the spot. Such a strong name for a strong man and that  _ smile~ _

“Ahem.” Aphoth was struggling not to laugh. She knew that bow-lipped smile. If she laughed, she would hit her with her guitar -  _ her axe _ \- and damn the consequences. 

“Herm,” Ash coughed. “Yeah. Hi, Slade, I’m Ashlyn,” she said, biting her lip a little. “But you can call me Ash~” she struggled not to add a seductive purr to her words. 

Maverick raised an eyebrow and leaned back, glancing up at Slade. “How did you do that. Seriously.” 

Slade shrugged. “Natural talent. Some have it, some don’t.”

“What are you talking about?” Ash frowned, tilting her head curiously. 

Aphoth snorted. “Flirting with you, dumbass.” Her grin was otherworldly wide. 

Ash glared at her and wrapped a hand around her axe.

-.-.-

Winter fiddled with her hair as she walked. It still felt so - odd, so weightless. And, of course, it distracted her from recent events with Helia. 

That - that darn Faunus. She’d been so  _ clingy _ and there’d been the misunderstanding, and Winter just wanted to curl up in a hole and for it to all go away. She was a pleasant, useful girl but her mannerisms were - 

\-  _ no worse than Weiss’ when she was tiny _ . 

She wasn’t going there again. Helia was not her sister, not even like her sister. Weiss had some semblance of dignity - apart from that time she’d danced on the table, and that time with the teddy bear, or the time at the piano recital…

Ok, maybe she didn’t have that much dignity. 

A crash from ahead of her. Probably some clumsy fellow would-be student knocking something - ok, that was gunfire. 

She burst into a jog, hand dropping to her sabre again. Launched into a glyph assisted sprint to hit the door, drawing her weapon to find - 

Pandemonium.  

The Atrium was… broken wasn’t right, but it wasn’t  _ wrong. _ Half the stream were forming a loose ring around the center, occasionally dodging a burst of gunfire or sparks or even  _ combatants _ as a fight carried on in the middle. 

The second floor balconies had other academy hopefuls cheering and shouting support for their chosen bets.

_ Bets. _ And how did Winter know this?

“Yo, Ice Queen!” Maverick slid to a stop in front of her, taking in her glowering face without so much as a flinch. “You’re a bit late to the party but we’re still taking bets!” 

She punched him the face as hard as she could, and kept walking. Shouldered her way through the crowd and into the ring. 

“Or you could join in, that’s cool too!” Maverick quipped, back on his feet surprisingly quick, throwing his arms around a couple of friends he seemed to have made as he watched.

“Stop this at once, or -”

A green lance of light smacked her in the face - it hurt, burnt even through her aura, sent her smashing to the floor. Distantly she saw Bastion charge the firer - a girl in black with some sort of strangely shaped spear surrounded by shadowy figures of half-dismembered Atlesian soldiers who tried to fend the walking giant off. 

Winter shook her head, stood. Triggered her sword’s compartment to release the dagger. 

If they wanted a fight, she was going to fucking  _ bring one _ .  

The first combatant who noticed her standing was a boy with red hair and a hooked staff. He spun into a kick that she ducked under, dagger taking the bladed whip that sprang from the staff and blocking it while she administered a thorough drubbing with her sabre. 

“HEYOOO, AND THE ICE QUEEN ENTERS THE FRAY! TWENTY TO ONE AGAINST OUR COLDEST COMPETITOR YET! LAST CHANCE!” Maverick announced, his weedy little body producing a surprisingly clear yell over the roar of the crowd.

A whistle and she was struck from the side by Watcher’s chain dagger as she swung an arc through the crowd, sending would-be hunters flying. Winter grimaced, caught the dagger blade in the disarming gap of her sword before it could withdraw, and  _ hauled _ on the chain, trying to reel the tall girl in. 

She didn’t move, but she did haul on the chain herself, sending Winter sprawling for an instant until she rolled to her feet, leaping over an axe strike from a hideously poorly dressed girl, foot snapping out to kick her in the face. 

Winter held onto the chain, other hand fumbling a vial of gravity dust from her pouch.  She ducked two more swipes from axe girl, let herself be launched forward by another tug on the chain, then slammed the vial into the metal links. 

Weightless she span through the air, wrapping the chain around that red-headed irritating girl’s neck and Watcher’s own throat. Red struggled feebly, but that greatsword’s hilt extended into a sweeping spear, lashing round in a poke that she felt through her aura, knocking her away from the chain and allowing the tall girl to retract it. 

“OH, THAT HAS  _ GOT _ TO HURT!” Maverick winced in sympathy, seemingly giving a running commentary on the fight. 

Another ray of green light blasted across the fight, deflected from Bastion’s massive shield. The shadowy Atlesians were gone, cut apart by her massive sword, and now she held the struggling girl in one massive hand. 

Winter was too busy dealing with Watcher’s attack to see any more. The girl had lunged, following the stab with a sweeping strike that looked almost powerful enough to shatter bone even through aura, and Winter had to frantically backstep to get away. Another sweeping slash and she flipped backwards - wait, maybe she could - 

The next strike she flipped  _ forward _ , onto the blade, then back into a kick, landed, lunged, recovered, lunged again and launched into a spinning strike with the dagger. Watcher’s own offhanded strike caught her arm, but she was well inside the guard of that ridiculous greatsword. 

Winter barely caught a glance of Bastion - repeatedly slamming the laser-girl’s head into her shield, almost exactly like she’d slammed her sword into it to attract the Deathstalker’s attention. She couldn’t help but spare a thought of praise for the manoeuvre; whittle down your opponent while making sure they were severely disorientated.

“OW. OW. OW. OW.” Maverick laughed with each meaty thwack of the girl’s head on Bastion’s shield. 

“GET YOUR STUPID HANDS  _ OFF HER! _ ” Axe-girl shrieked, flipping her axe around and… holding it like a guitar? Winter would have blinked in surprise. Not a second later the girl swept her arm down across the strings-  _ where did they come from?!- _ and an explosive wave of  _ noise _ staggered everyone. 

But not Watcher, because of course not. 

Bastion, on the other hand, was nearly thrown off her feet, her arms windmilling as she lost her balance and chucking the stunned laser-girl away. She roared in pain, dropping her shield to put her hands over her helmet, obviously deafened. 

“OUCH, AND THAT IS NECRO-CUTIE OUT OF THE FIGHT!” Maverick broke off from the regrouping crowd to check on her. And probably collect bets.

Axe-girl was keeping up her assault, grinning and headbanging as she tapped her foot, sending out a  _ pulse _ to her music. Bastion twisted and almost slipped as she started charging at axe-girl ignoring the sonic assault through sheer ferocity or deafness, tackling her mid-riff and slamming the surprised girl into the nearest pillar, cracking it ominously. She barely had time to yelp before Bastion’s hand clamped over her face, pulling back and shoving her head  _ through _ the weakened pillar, much to the crowd’s roaring delight. 

Without a pause, the giantess grabbed the axe, letting the unconscious girl’s body fly into the wall as she spun around and  _ threw _ it at Winter and the Watcher. It was almost like she’d completely forgotten the sword on her back in her rage.

_ Rage! _

Winter ducked as best she could, her eyes going wide as the axe blade passed millimeters over her face. “BERSERKER!” she shouted, and the crowd slowly stopped cheering as several of them instantly backed up and reached for their weapons.

“ALL BETS ARE OFF!” Maverick declared, “SOMEONE CALL SECURITY!” 

-.-.-


	5. Chaos

-.-.-

Ironwood sat at his desk, sipping his coffee while swiping through documents on the main holographic display. If he glanced up, he could see the live feeds of the remaining four streams. Alpha, Charlie, Delta, and Echo. Beta Stream had that unfortunate run-in with the Deathstalker nest in the earthquake and the survivors were all in Medical.

He let out a breath as he leaned back in his seat, ignoring the documents in favour of checking up on the remaining potentials.

Alpha Stream were in their dining hall, nicely segmenting into small groups. They showed promise for improvised companionship and teamwork, more so than the other streams. There were a few incidents here and there with clashing personalities, but those were to be expected in the stream of potential leadership candidates.

Delta Stream seemed to be playing some sort of gaming tournament on a few of the terminals they’d hacked into. A quick reminder of their general backgrounds showed a lot of potential for R&D and hunting missions targeting rogue Hunters, but their combat skills left something to be desired. It still would have to be seen if they could follow orders, rather than the democratic cliques they’d assembled. 

Echo Stream were… nowhere to be found. Ironwood raised an eyebrow for a moment before switching the feed to one of the less obvious cameras. Most of them were hiding in the corners or forming small groups, sharing information and checking out each other’s weapons. The least promising group, in his opinion, but a fair number had survived. Stealth had its place, he supposed. 

And as for Charlie Stream… he watched the fight break out and shook his head with a sigh. Charlie Stream, unlike the others, had no focus. It was the odds and ends of people that didn’t really fit in with the rest. They weren’t leaders, they weren’t tech-heads, they certainly weren’t stealthy. Good fighters, but - disorganised. With a few exceptions. He watched the Schnee girl stride into the room, attempt to break up the fight before the scion lashed out with her particulate beam. 

It would be interesting to see how she would - and she was wading into the fight. He sighed, adding ‘Requires additional  Pylons patience’ to the notes on her file. He groaned, deleting the word ‘Pylons’. That damned game had been on his mind too much recently. 

He took another sip of coffee. Cold. His face scrunched, and he watched the developing fight with some interest. 

Cinerous was performing well. Hardly surprising given her heritage. As was the barbarian girl. For an over-privileged child, the Schnee girl wasn’t doing too badly either. The throttling with Cinerous’ chain was a master stroke that might have worked in another circumstance. 

“So, do you plan to anything about this upcoming disaster?” a voice asked behind him. 

James spared a glance over his shoulder. “You know how things are, Glynda.” He watched the panic as the chemicals he’d subtly injected the barbarian girl with took effect, driving her into the berserker rage. “Besides. It’s all going as planned.”

“If you want an easier way for your students to kill each other just-” 

“They won’t kill each other. But you know that the more… esoteric Grimm can have odd effects on Hunters. Not to mention grudge matches, sudden losses of temper, misjudging strikes - how will they deal with a friendly sparring match becoming a threat? And if some of the weaker combatants do die, well. Then, while unfortunate, they wouldn’t have been worthy Hunters.”

“Worthy Hunters or not, they are still  _ people _ , James.” Glynda sternly reminded him. “We didn’t make peace after the War just for individuality to be forgotten.”

“Individuality is never forgotten. But… sometimes it must be suppressed in some to allow it to flourish in others. A sacrifice to allow the majority the freedom they deserve. A willing, understanding sacrifice. I would never ask them to do anything I myself would not be willing to do.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, James.”

-.-.-

Maverick used his Semblance to jump around the room, looking for Necro-Cutie. He was having trouble identifying her distinctive appearance among the flashing crowd of… well, very colourful people. 

“Damnit, damnit, damn- WHOA!” his face transformed into an expression of shock as he slid under one of the berserker’s punches. The girl was going  _ nuts _ , silent except for the odd roar as she spun and lashed out with fists and feet. One foot slammed like a mace into some kid’s ribs and he went flying with a crack of bone as she rolled back to pick up her shield. 

She was so fucking  _ fast _ . Way faster than anyone that heavily armoured had any right to be. 

Maverick dived, pulling a fresh gun out of his holster before thinking better of it and putting it away again. At this point, the best he could do was attract attention to himself… and having a raging berserker after his head wasn’t  _ that _ high on his bucket list.

The tall girl slammed forward, a lunge extending her greatsword into its spear-shape to temporarily knock the berserker back. Old school, but effective - especially with the spinning aftermath of flame dust as she launched into a long combo of strikes blocked on the giantess’s forearms, scoring and scorching the armour there. 

Searching desperately, Maverick failed to find who he was looking for. Although, he did find her friend, what’d she call herself… Ashlyn! He raced over and grabbed her unconscious body, heaving her over his shoulder as he got moving again, cursing at himself for overextending his Semblance earlier.

Another screeched roar, and he looked to see the berserker charge into the tall girl, shield extended. The girl didn’t move, somehow stopping the charge in its tracks, but her armour crumpled and warped with the blow, dagger driving out in attacks to attempt to get the monster to back off. 

That whiny brat, Blue, in an odd fit of bravery, tried to come up behind her and smack the stock of her sniper into the back of the berserker’s helm. Maverick had a hard time deciding whether to laugh or wince. 

But when the armoured giantess simply twisted around, grabbed her by the ankle, and used her as a  _ club _ against the other girl, he laughed. Unfortunately, that drew her attention and he suddenly found himself ducking the blue girl’s limp body. She - she fucking  _ threw _ Blue at him!

Blue hit the wall with an unforgiving  _ thwack _ behind him as berserk-lady started pummeling tall-girl. She managed to dodge most of the hits, only getting clipped at best until one strike left her open for a Spartan kick to the gut. Maverick was honestly surprised she’d seen that Spruce Willis movie.

He grimaced when Slade popped up to take Tallgirl’s place. He was firing his dinky little pistols - but then he shifted, ten or twenty shadows leaning out from his body, all firing as well. A virtual platoon of gunfire, focused on a few spots on the berserker’s armour. 

It was a good plan, but the giantess just didn’t seem to care about the gunfire. It probably would have worked if ol’ Deathstroke had a  _ half-decent weapon. _ Instead, she threw out her hand to grab him - he dodged aside, but her followup shield bash sent him flying with the distinctive crack of failing aura. 

Maverick groaned, pulling out his highest-caliber hand-cannon. It’d taken him  _ ages _ to get this beauty finished. It was a single-shot coilgun - a ‘gauss’ pistol in common terms - firing a heavy high explosive penetrating slug, like some of his other pistols did. But, you know, higher calibre and faster and with a core of repulsion dust to literally shove armour in its path aside. 

The recoil was a bitch though.

-.-.-

Winter was - she was struggling to deal with the situation, if she was honest with herself. Bastion was a berserker - she’d heard the bedtime stories from nurses, both good and bad, but she’d never heard of any  _ actual _ scientific evidence suggesting the phenomenon was real - 

A deafening crack as Maverick fired something at her and she  _ stumbled _ , before spinning round to charge the boy. 

Was there anything she could do? Most of the glyphs she could think of wouldn’t hold anything that strong for long, and she had no way to quickly deploy her dust to enhance the glyphs other than by opening and sprinkling vials, a delicate task that would require not being interrupted by a charging behemoth of a woman. 

But she had to try. 

Glimmering blue ice dust vial in hand, she launched herself forward towards the rampaging Bastion. Maverick was managing to avoid her blows - barely - with what Winter assumed was his own Semblance, a series of teleports. 

“Whoa - hey if you’re planning to help -” another blink and he was standing next to her, “Distract her for a moment?” and then he was gone again. “Slade, covering fire if you can!”

The nerve! The -

Bastion bore down on her and she dived backwards, summoning a glyph carefully concealed beneath the berserker’s giant shield that held her in place for an instant before she threw the ice vial, fingerflicks conjuring more minute glyphs to receive the infusion. 

Whereupon the berserker stepped away from them and slammed her foot into her stomach. 

Winter had taken hits in sparring before. She’d even taken bad hits that had left her bruised and aching for weeks afterwards. 

They were  _ nothing _ in comparison to that impact. 

Its touch left her unable to breathe, her whole chest felt  _ numb _ for an instant before screaming out in burning cold agony - and that was with her aura up. Barely. 

How strong  _ was _ she? 

She slid herself aside with another set of glyphs, coughing and struggling to stand. Her ice-mines would detonate soon, and if the berserker wasn’t in them, then - she’d have wasted her dust, and the girl would  _ remember _ , wouldn’t fall for the trap again. 

Bastion charged, and Winter ran as fast as she could for her line of glyphs. 

Those half seconds seemed to last forever. She felt the whistle of air of the giantess bringing her shield down, knew it would cut through her aura and into her skull, crush the bone and brain - if she was lucky she’d die, unlucky she’d become a drooling idiot - hear the crackle of gunfire as Maverick and Slade tried to distract her - 

The ice detonated, an unfocused fractal crystal springing up almost under her feet, wrapping round Bastion like a lover and, for the moment pinning her in place. Winter stumbled and rolled away, end of her jacket ripping from where it had been caught. Her breathing was heavy, tasting of iron. 

Maverick blinked down and helped her to her feet. It felt like the entire room breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry about that, had to, heh, dump Ash somewhere out of aggro.” Maverick apologised - wow, that must have been a first for him - stepping away the moment she was up. 

Panting, she said, “You could’ve just - ”

Then the ice started cracking. 

“WELL THAT’S JUST FUCKING WONDERFUL.” Maverick exclaimed loudly in exasperation, grabbing Winter in an unappreciated one-armed hug and  _ pushing _ before space seemed to warp and her stomach churned and she found herself on the second floor, dropping to her knees and trying not to puke. 

“How the fuck do we stop her?” Slade was grimacing, clutching his side. 

Maverick shrugged. The room was mostly vacated and they were the last ones in it with Bastion. “I don’t know! Something- something really fucking  _ big _ maybe?” he asked, blinking down and driving more HE slugs into Bastion’s helm. They did little to stop her but slowed by the ice as she was, it did enough to disorientate her. 

Winter glanced round frantically.  Maybe…

“Her weapon. It shocked the Deathstalker didn’t it?” She spotted it lying discarded on the floor as Bastion started hammering one of the pillars holding their balcony up, two swift fist strikes reducing it to powder. “But I don’t think any of us are strong enough to lift that thing.”

“I could.” Slade gritted his teeth. “I could use my Semblance. Enough of me should be able to. Maverick can aim it.”

“WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, YOU DO  _ NOT _ JUST GO USING WEAPONS WITHOUT THEIR OWNER’S PERMISSION!” Maverick shouted back at them. So maybe the dumbass did have a slight sense of honour.

“Only option. I used the last of my lightning dust doing… something.” She wasn’t sure how common time manipulation was, but her timestop on Helia’s wing seemed like a good thing to not reveal at this moment. 

Maverick was about to argue, but instead he sidestepped a shield being flung at him like a bladed wall of death. “Although I  _ guess _ we could make a small exception - but just this once!” he yelled, blinking over to grab the discarded sword. He pulled on it for a moment, grunting. “HOLY SHIT WHAT DOES THIS THING  _ WEIGH?! _ ” 

Bastion roared, turning to charge at him. Whatever enhanced her speed was gone - but she wasn’t slow on her own. Maverick barely blinked away, taking the sword with him to the other side of the room before disappearing. 

He popped back into existence between Slade and Winter, leaning on a pillar and looking like he’d just run a marathon. 

“I’ll give you covering fire.” Winter cricked her neck, pulling more vials from her pouch. “Slade, go with him, grab the sword. Maverick, until he gets it, we’ll need to juggle her attention. Got it?”

Maverick panted for a moment, nodding. “Heh, yeah. Damn, haven’t blinked that much since ever,” he mumbled, looking at his hands. They were shaking. A lot. “Right, distraction…”

Slade slapped him on the shoulder. “Fight the berserker now, panic later, alright? We’ve got you.”

“Okay, okay,” Maverick breathed, before pulling a large revolver out of his holster -  _ how many guns does he have in there?!  _ \- and handing it to Winter. “Don’t break it, Ice Queen. Screamer flares. Six shots,” he told her, grabbing Slade’s shoulder and blinking the pair down to where Bastion was fending off several bravened Charlie Stream members. 

Winter rolled the revolver’s cylinder, sighted down it. She preferred her dust, but indubitably it’d be useful. Hm, what was that tickling feeling on her arm, like something slithering up - 

A prick, like a needle. Two needles, pressed into her arm. She looked down to see a snake withdrawing its fangs from two neat holes in her upper arm. It hissed at her. 

“Oh,” she said, and fell over. 

She could hear Maverick screaming something. Could hear Bastion roaring. But that didn’t seem to matter as much as the colours creeping across her vision, in black and white and shades of grey. 

A high heeled boot stepped into view, and a dark haired girl crouched down, picking up the snake. “Well, that was easier than I thought it’d be. I really have to thank you for your  _ arrogance _ in thinking a frumpy parka would make you unrecognisable.” The snake clambered higher on her arm. “Don’t worry, you won’t die. Apep has two sets of venom sacs, and I removed his lethal ones a long time ago. But the hallucinogens - well. I kept them. Made a lot of pocket money at school from selling them.” She stood, and Winter thrashed as the colours swirled and grew. “Have fun, Winter Schnee.”

Winter felt her lungs seize up as all noise seemed to cease. A little bubble of her own world with this insane girl. The girl frowned. 

“Ash, quit it. You know why I’m doing this. Why she deserves - ” She saw something at Winter’s feet and her eyes widened. Winter couldn’t tell what it was - there was too much in her eyes, too much happening, but she thought it looked like the guitar girl Mav had been carrying lying down like she was. 

Her attacker backed up as several knives floated over Winter almost protectively, twisting and twirling in the air in a way that would have made Winter concerned for their owner’s mental state had she been sober. Snake girl turned to get away - and found herself bodily heaved right back at Winter, at the knives. 

“That wasn’t very nice,” a small voice  _ hissed _ at her. Winter couldn’t turn her head enough to see, but she sounded small. Viscious. The knives split, and then split again. Until the air was filled with swirling feather-sized blades. All in silence.

“You should understand.” The girl’s voice was small too, but in a different way. “Of anyone here, you should understand.”

“If you want to escalate,  _ I can too. _ ” 

The knives started flying, something locking snake-girl in place at the bladestorm ravaged her, draining her aura scarily quick. Her screaming turned to whimpering as her aura shattered, several lacerations appearing over her body, her snake hissing and flailing one almost dived right into it’s throat. 

And then it stopped. 

Winter blinked, her head lolling as she watched. 

Snake-girl opened her eyes to find an eyelash or two cut off by how close- and how  _ sharp _ \- the knives were. She was completely locked in place, as far as Winter could tell. 

“Please. Please don’t kill Apep he was just obeying my instructions. Please.”

Helia regarded her coldly as a single knife backed out of the snake’s mouth. “How far were you going to go? Kill her? Addict her? Get her expelled?” The knives twirled, coming ever so close to blinding her. “If you really want oppression to end, you aren’t going to do it by bringing the wrath of a grieving Schnee down on your head, or mine, or the Faunus of the world.”

The sound barrier broke and snake-girl panted sobbing breaths of relief as the knives retracted before she was unceremoniously flung shrieking over the balcony railing with her snake. 

Winter didn’t know what was going on, but Helia looked small and fluffy and angry and sad. She extended her arms - or maybe her legs, everything felt funny, and firmly shouted, “Cuddles!”

Helia sighed. Then she started giggling. And finally laughed as her knives flew into formation to cover her broken wing. “Yes. Time for cuddles,” she smiled, crawling over to lie on top of Winter’s prone body and be cuddled.

-.-.-


	6. Emergence

-.-.-

It was all just so - pretty. 

Winter giggled. It was only black and white. But all the lines and specks and spirals were warm and fuzzy and nummy. She mouthed a little of the pretty’s lines. Oh, it was hair. The pretty was Helia. 

Helia was such a little monochrome cutie. She was squishing on her chest at the moment. Squish! Winter liked that word. 

Someone was talking to them. Words were loud and complicated and made Winter want to shut her eyes. But Winter didn’t want to shut her eyes because then she couldn’t see the pretty not-colours. Nolours? No losing. She hadn’t lost. She’d just got sleepy. That was such a silly word. Sleep-y. So long and silly. Like her hair had been. 

She giggled a bit, then went back to eating Helia’s hair. 

“Mhh…” Helia grumbled, shaking her head and nuzzling her nice soft pillows for a moment before settling. Winter could feel her pillows moving, but that wasn’t what they were normally called. Oh well. 

Ooh, someone had grabbed her arm. She couldn’t see them properly, because of the bright, but then they began dragging her. At first she was irritated, because it made her arm hurty, but then she looked round and saw the world spinning by and all the colours flashing and instead she made a noise. 

“WHEEEEE! WHEEEE!”

“Nnngghh, sstopp iiiit…” Helia moaned, stuffing her face into her pillows and putting her hands over her ears. It felt nice when Helia did that, so Winter noised louder. 

“WHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WWWWHEEEEEEEEE!” It was so much fun making noises - she could see them sparkling from her mouth as she made them. 

“Would someone  _ please _ get her to - wait a second is the Ice Queen stoned?” a vaguely familiar and irritating voice called out in confusion. 

Helia continued grumbling, her complaints muffled by fabric and chest. Ohhh that’s what the pillows were called! And Winter was Ice Queen. That sounded like the noise! Ooh, she could make that as the noise!

Winter took a deep breath. 

“ICCCEEE QUEEEEEEEN!”

And she suddenly had her mouth filled with fluffy, stopping her noise-ing. That was mean. And the fluffy was coming apart in her mouth and leaking stuff that made it hard to breathe properly. She made an unhappy noise into the fluffy. 

“I’ll stop if you stop.” Helia grumpled, flopping down limply on top of her.

“Maverick? We might have a problem.” That voice was all gruff and grumbly. Gruff and grumbly. What if the voice was  _ crumbly _ ? She liked crumble. Crumble tasted nice. Unlike Helia’s fluffy.

“The fucking Ice Queen is  _ stoned off her ass _ after a fight with a  _ fucking berserker _ and you just now realise we might have a problem?” Annoying voice replied sarcastically. “No shit, Sherlock!”

“I meant that. Given the state they’re in, if I try to drag them down there, they’ll decide it’s a theme park or something. I was hoping you could…” And then grumpy voice made a clacking noise. “You know?”

A tiny sparkle blipped before Annoying was standing over her. “I swear this is the last goddamn… hey that actually looks pretty adorable,” he said, pulling something out of pocket and there was a bright hurty sparkle. Winter whined round the fluffy. “Alright, time to go, your highness,” Annoying smirked, before grabbing her shoulder and  _ pulling - _

It was twisty and hurty and made her head hurt and her tummy hurt like when she’d tried to out eat Weissy on a dare, or the time she’d accidentally trapped herself upside down with a glyph, and her whole tummy was roiling - 

“Oh  _ shit _ , she’s going to - ”

Winter made a not-nice noise, and lots of hurty hot stuff came out of her mouth that tasted horrible and went all over the fluffy making it very not nice. The rest made her chest and tummy all wet and horrible. 

The pressure of Helia on her chest was gone though. When had cutie done that?

“We should check if she’s choking - I had a friend who downed too much rotgut, ended up almost dying on his own vomit.” Probing fingers in her mouth. They were not nice and they put more of the not-nice liquid in her mouth from her face. She bit them. 

Something lifted her as the fingers jerked away, pushing her onto her side. Her arms curled up and one of her legs moved. It felt like they were being tickled, and she giggled. 

“Eeewwww, she puked all over my wing!”

-.-.-

_ She would be hated/reviled/forgiven, removed from the Academy her graduation will be filled with the cheers of her family it will be silent green red red she will die in a man’s arms she will die alone in the snow she will have three children she will be remembered a hero she will drop out of the third round of the Vytal festival she will kill a Beowulf she will be killed by a Beowulf.  _

_ Uncertainty/Fracture/Kaleidoscope. _

-.-.-

“Urghhh this is  _ such _ a clusterfuck.” Maverick groaned, rubbing at his forehead as he collapsed against the nearest vaguely soft thing. 

“Hey!” Ash squealed, her legs parting as he leaned against them. 

Maverick, from his seat on the ground, just flopped his head back and looked up at her, failing to give a damn. “Yeah?”

Red-faced, Ash started pummeling his face with one hand while pushing her skirt down between her thighs with the other. “Sit! Somewhere! Else!” 

“OW OW OW OKAY FINE!” Maverick got up and batted her off before flopping down on the couch next to her, throwing his arms over the back of the seat. 

Ash’s uncompromising glare failed to phase him. 

“What? I moved.” 

“Oh my  _ god _ will you two just shut up and kiss already?!” the irritated little faunus girl hissed at them. 

Maverick grimaced and raised an eyebrow, glancing at Ash who’d gone so red he wasn’t sure if it would be politically correct to expect steam to start blowing out her ears. “Yeah… maybe later.”

Ash just shrieked in incoherent rage and started pummeling him again while he laughed and tried to defend himself.

“Noises loudddd.”

...well, trust the Ice Queen to interrupt with deep profundity like that. 

Deathstroke wandered over, crouching down on his haunches nearby. “This is a clusterfuck, for sure.”

“Stoned royalty, a berserker, and… hey is anybody actually dead?” Maverick perked up, craning his neck as he looked around. “YO, SPEAK UP IF YOU’RE DEAD!” 

“You will be if you aren’t quiet.” Tall girl unfolded herself from a pile of unconscious applicants, settling her cloak around her shoulders with a shrug. 

“Point taken…” Maverick rolled his eyes. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced yet, actually. Hi, I’m Maverick,” he said, his usual introduction only slightly dulled by his exhaustion. 

“Is that a descriptor or a name?” Tall girl cricked her neck. “Cinerous. Titian Cinerous.”

“Ashlyn. Err, Ashlyn Krieger.” Ash stammered, shrinking down in her seat. She looked so friggin’  _ cute _ like that. Maverick smirked to himself as he leaned into the corner and spared a glance at Ash’s chosen boytoy, Slade.

Who of course was too busy playing with his dinky guns to notice. “Slade. Slade Coal.”

Maverick paused. “Wait, Coal? As in the same Coal that runs that Dust shop?” 

“My dad, yeah. Never really got into the family business. Can’t… grok Dust, like he can.”

“Hah! I was wondering why you looked familiar.” Maverick tapped his chin as he crossed his knees. “You’ve got the same hair and that general air of grump.”

“What did you just say about my dad?” One hand was on his sword, and his eyes had narrowed.

“He’s seen some shit, man, and he’s still forging on. It’s like you literally know he’s a badass just by being in the same room as him.” Maverick explained happily. “It’s awesome.” 

Next to him, Ash just curled up into a red-faced ball and put her head in her hands. “You are  _ such _ an idiot.” she said, her voice muffled. 

Slade’s hand slowly fell from his sword. “He’s not a badass. Just a man. And if you say… anything like that again. I will make sure the body is never found.”

The little angel snorted. 

“And who might you be?” Maverick asked, nudging her with his foot. 

“Helia.”

“No last name?” he raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“No.”

Well, that certainly put a damper on the mood...

“No parents?” Titian’s voice was surprisingly kindly. “Killed by labour or by bigots?”

Helia frowned, looking down and playing with the end of her hair. “I… don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“Human authorities at fault either way.” Titian rolled her neck again. 

“Hey, we’re not  _ all _ that bad.” Maverick grimaced a bit as he rebuked her blanket blame. “Though, to be fair, a lot of us are assholes.”

Titian snorted. “Don’t let them govern you then. Overthrow them. Tear down the monsters like the Schnees and the Schwarzes and the remnants of the old Kaisers.”

“I’d rather teach them the right way.” Helia mumbled. “Otherwise escalation happens and the problem is never solved.” She looked up, glancing at the crumpled form of necrogirl. Huh, she was in a different place than where berserk girl had thrown her earlier...

Ash looked up and followed Helia’s gaze- “Wh-  _ Aphoth what the hell did you do?! _ ” she exclaimed, looking at her friend in terrified exasperation.

Slade looked up, then stood. “Looked like she attacked the white haired girl. While our berserk friend was running around.”

“Like I said…” Helia croaked, “escalation breeds escalation.” She wavered where she sat for a moment, before slumping to the ground. “Medic…” 

-.-.-

_ War is a funny thing.  _

_ She makes her first kill and is praised/is abandoned/is discarded. She smells of fur and fire and blood. She walks the chasm.  _

_ She sees the darkness. _

_ She runs, but it has touched her/claimed her/missed her. It will always/never/ _ **_always_ ** _ dwell in her heart. _

_ There’s no escape from your own shadow, after all. _

-.-.-

Charlie Stream… the disorganised, but skilled, fighters. Ironically, they were his prime candidates for the Atlas Special Operatives branch. Hunters that didn’t need to rely on a team to complete important missions discreetly, but could handle themselves in the thick of it were exactly what he was looking for.

Maybe not too discreetly. He’d been pleased to find a Berserker-Blood in his applicant pool, but they were hardly discreet. That kind of primal battle skill and rage that could grip any soldier but seemed… enhanced, in those of that particular blood, would be useful indeed, especially combined with her weaponry. To train her to harness it would be a joy. 

The Faunus girl, she was discreet. Had snuck past the guards to prevent the scion’s attack on the Schnee girl. He’d almost applauded when she’d done that, and had promptly been smacked by Glynda for even thinking of doing so. 

Such was the price of progress. 

“What are your plans, James?” Glynda asked, watching the Faunus, the Berserker, and the Schnee being taken away to the medical wing. Heh. Wing. 

“Let them rest for a bit longer. A proper rest, separate to prevent any more incidents. They’ve already passed the second Trial, in effect - well, those who passed, at least. The third Trial… no, I’ll let them take it straight. Then we’ll see how they all shake out.”

“Hm. Can you see any teams forming yet?”

“A couple. I’ve got a few ideas, at least. We’ll wait till the end before we decide that.”

He flicked through the feeds to the hospital rooms. The berserker was, for the time being, well sedated, the others being treated in separate rooms - save for the faunus girl and the Schnee, who remained… inseparable due their condition. 

It was touching to see a bond form so quickly, but they’d have to learn to operate without each other eventually. He folded his hands in front of his face. 

The faunus girl… she’d known the Schnee was in trouble. Intellectual semblances were rare, but not unheard of. And that weapon. The precision required to use it properly was very impressive. 

He pulled up the footage of her confronting the scion. Watched it frame by frame, the way the knives moved like a shoal of living beings. Zoomed, checked them. 

“Fuck.” 

“James?”

He stood, straightening his tie. “I need to make a call.” He did his best to suppress the bubbling roil of anger and betrayal that swirled in his gut like a volcano at the knowledge that the man had - that he had  _ dared _ to - to  _ Atlas subjects _ \- 

“Alright. I’ll go make coffee.” Glynda rolled her eyes. “But be quick about it, we  _ are _ on a schedule here.”

Ironwood closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll do my best. Thank you, Glynda,” he said, nodding to her respectfully as he strode out of the room, his steps just a bit louder than usual. 

As convenient as it was to have automatic doorways, right now he would have given an arm and and a leg for an old-fashioned one to slam loudly. No, no, he was still  _ reacting. _ He kept it contained for as long as it took him to get to the Headmaster’s Quarters. Small hallway, three doors; bed, office, lockers. Ironwood tensed up when the door shut behind him, finally granting privacy. 

“DAMNIT!” he shouted, slamming his fist into the wall. The sting forced him to reconsider, reminding him how unproductive blind rage was. His hands shook as he stormed into the small office, sitting down and doing his best to let himself settle before he tried to talk to that man. 

Deep breath, fill the lungs, clench the fists, tense the body. Let it out, relax the tension, palms out. Think. Watch it play out. Don’t lose his temper.

He picked up his scroll, carefully selected the contact. Held it to his ear, eyes closed, still breathing in and out deeply. Trying to remain serene. 

“ _ Hello, this is Atlas Intern -  _ ”

“I’d like to speak to the good doctor, please.” 

-.-.-

_ Two. Two paths. _

_ Left. Right.  _

_ There is no midway. Everything or nothing. Infinity or Void.  _

_ All or nothing. This is how it’s always been how it will always be. How it always was how it’s never been. Shell over soft, soft over shell. The secrets eat away, gnaw gnaw, gnaw gnaw.  _

_ A girl will greet him in the future and die. He will never let himself sleep right again.  _

_ A girl will be made to greet him in the future. He will never let himself sleep right again fanatic that he is right and she is the answer. She did not want this it was what she was born to be. _

_ Dancing, dancing, twirling and tangled in strings.  _

_ You are not the puppetmaster. _

_ You are not the stagemaster. _

_ You are not even her father.  _

_ Her father. I -  _

_ Shatter/break/broken/LeaAVE/CEASE _

_ She has your eyes. _

_ They see nothing. _

-.-.-

She did her best not to cry. 

It wasn’t fair. What she’d done was - ok, she’d fucked up, she’d done something horrible. She’d - vengeance never worked. The dead taught her that much. But - but - she’d been the one to make that choice. To try and take back what she was owed. 

She should’ve paid the price, not Apep. 

Aphoth held her tiny boy as close as she could, examined his bleeding gums. The teeth had been cut clean out, ripped from his tiny jaw. He hissed sadly, mouth agape, still trying to understand why he’d been hurt, why his mistress had let him be hurt. 

God, he couldn’t hunt any more. He would hate that. He’d loved chasing down little rats and grabbing them and now, if he tried - 

He’d been badly hurt once doing that. Rats were tough and angry and he’d been bleeding everywhere and she’d been so scared that one of her only two friends was going to die. He’d only survived because he’d managed to bite the little beast, leaving it a twitching drooling mess she’d crushed underfoot. 

She should’ve paid the price. 

At least his aura was soothing the pain. 

She pressed his cold little head to her cheek, felt his tongue flick out, tasting her sadness. 

She should’ve done better. Should’ve waited til after the trial to go after the Schnee. Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. It wouldn’t have mattered. As if a little prank with a drug could ever have made up for decades of hurt anyway. 

No, she couldn’t think like that. The girl had a protector in that faunus - she’d just have to wait. Wait and suffer and -

She sobbed quietly into Apep’s scales. 

“Heyyy, Necro-cuti- owW OW OW OW!” Maverick tried to greet her, only for something to get in his way.

“Her name is Aphoth and if you call her Necro-cutie one more time I’m going to pull this ear  _ off _ , understand?” Ash growled at him, before shoving him away and leaving him to trip over some stray debris. His landing sounded painful. “Hey, Aphy, are you okay?” she asked quietly, kneeling down next to her. 

“No. Not really.” She wiped her eyes. “I did something stupid.” She looked at Apep’s sad little face. “Very stupid.”

“What kind of stupiii- what happened to Apep?” Ash asked, blinking in surprise. “Th- how the- did he take a hit?” She seemed confused. She - she didn’t know, of course she didn’t, but Aphoth couldn’t tell her, couldn’t bring herself to. What if she hated her? What if she - ?

“I.” She forced the words out. “I faked being down. When the giantess hit me. And then when - when  _ she _ was near me on the balcony I - ”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“You tried to stab her in the back?” The question… wasn’t sympathetic, nor was it accusatory.

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t kill her. I wouldn’t. I just - I told Apep to go for her. And then - ” She hid her face. She couldn’t bear to see Ash’s reaction. 

Ash sighed, and pulled her into a hug. “Aphoth, I’ve been your friend for Dust knows how long. I’m not going to shun you just because you made one… really fucking gigantic mistake. Of course I’m going to be disappointed in you but we all screw up and… and…” Ash trailed off for a moment. Aphoth could almost hear the gears working in her head. “Something something… look I’m still going to be here for you.” 

She smiled, tearily. “Y-you’re the best, Ash.” She rested her head on her, closed her eyes. Just like they were back at school and the bullies were crowding round, calling her mother a whore and Ash was there, strong and angry and warm. “B-but I still fucked up. They’ll probably throw me out soon. I - I imagine the security mechs are already on their way - ”

“Aphy, the TSO’s have already visited to take them to Medical. If you were going to be kicked out I’m pretty sure someone would have said something by now.” Ash reminded her, rubbing her back gently. 

“On the other hand, stoned Ice Queen was  _ loud _ .” Maverick commented, still lying in the pile of broken pillar bits. 

Aphoth jumped. “Y-you listened in?!” Now he knew, now he’d hate her, oh  _ no _ \- 

“Yeah? I mean I’m kinda too exhausted to bother getting up right now.” Maverick replied, almost shocking her with his callous disregard for what he'd just heard. 

Ash groaned, flopping her head down in Aphoth’s hair. “You are the most  _ oblivious _ dumbass I’ve ever met, Maverick.”

Aphoth laughed, a little weakly. “That’s a little unfair. Remember Oliver?”

“Give him a chance, Aphy, you hardly even know him yet.” Ash chuckled, rubbing Aphoth’s shoulder reassuringly. “Did you know he almost looked up my skirt not even five minutes ago?”

“Wait I did  _ what?! _ ” Maverick exclaimed in shock.

Aphoth laughed more. “You’re such a joker Ash. Wait, you were joking, right? Right?”

Ash gave her a lazy, grimaced half-smile. 

“Wait - really?”

Maverick groaned loudly and flopped back down on his pile. “Ow.”

“Like I said…” Ash cuddled her. “Oblivious. Dumbass.”

Aphoth nodded. “I’m going to have to agree with you now.”

“Now we’ve all finished chuckling.” Heavy bootsteps. She looked up to see Slade approaching, looking grim. “Let’s talk about why what you did was stupid.”

-.-.-

_ Rocks. Solid, sturdy, dependable. _

_ Warriors. Soft, fleshy, failable. _

_ Legends. Unknowable, inaccurate, foolish. _

_ Myths. Fantastical, irrelevant, provocative. _

_ Dust. Unknowable. Irrelevant. Failable. Worthless. Useless.  _

_ Everything. _

_ Uknowable, unusable, and yet everything. _

_ Cut the vein and the lifeblood flows free. _

_ Cut the vein and find freedom. _

_ Cut the vein. _

_ And you burn. _

-.-.-


	7. Emergence Part II

-.-.-

She didn’t even realise she’d fallen asleep until she woke up. Her head hurt, a fuzzy kind of dry hurt that pricked at the back of her eyes. It wasn’t pleasant. Not one bit. 

“Hey,” Helia greeted her softly from an arm’s length away.

Winter closed her eyes. She’d - moon above she’d acted like a fool. And that girl had  _ drugged  _ her. And Helia had saved her, and she’d - oh she’d vomited all over her as thanks. She assumed that the berserker had been stopped. She hoped she had, at least. 

“Why did you save me?” Winter hauled herself upright. 

Helia looked down at her hands and twiddled her thumbs, mumbling something unintelligible. From the looks of it, she’d just finished getting her wing cleaned. 

“Helia. You’re - ” Winter sighed, and tried to moderate her words. “Whatever favour you think I can grant you or your family, you’re mistaken.”

“Don’t have family.”

“Regardless. I’m - not my father. I have no influence over his policies. Less than none, now I’m gone. Whatever you - think I’m capable of, I can’t do it. I want to repay you. I really do. But... ”

Helia whispered something that Winter nearly missed. “It’s not about what you can do. It’s about what your actions cause.”

“I don’t understand.” She cautiously rested a hand on Helia’s own. 

“You’re… you’re not meant to.” Helia shook her head and pulled away. “You have more influence than you think.” she said, grabbing her blindfold and slipping it down over her eyes again as she turned her back to Winter.

“I have no influence. That’s what this is about! It’s about - making a real difference with my actions, not my name, not who I know. Going out there and changing things.”

“You, not you. From you. Outside, without. The impact not the fall.” Helia mumbled, her voice sounding slightly… off as she rattled off her gibberish.

“That doesn’t make any more sense.” Winter frowned. “I do things and they do things? Is that right? That’s the point of doing things, to have an impact.”

Helia groaned and shifted, flopping down with her face in her pillow, muttering to herself repeatedly. “... follow the red path, don’t follow the red path, don’t follow…” 

Winter’s face shifted to an expression of concern. “Helia? Are you ok?” She reached out again for Helia’s thin little hand, squeezed it. “I didn’t mean to sound angry. This is something I feel strongly about, and I’m sorry I took out my anger with - my father and the girl who hurt me on my rescuer.”

“It’s… it’s not your fault.  _ It is your- _ no no no-!” Helia growled and shoved her face into her pillow harder.

Winter pulled on her hand, drawing her up and wrapping her arms around her. “It’s ok. Whatever it is, it’s ok. I’m here now.”

“It’s not okay it’s  _ never _ okay the more I say the worse it gets it’s just  _ endless. _ ” Helia cried, her tears wetting Winter’s shirt. “Whether you know it or not you’re the fucking lynchpin,” she sobbed, hugging Winter in a tight yet still surprisingly weak grip. “It’s- it’s all on you. Can’t - can’t tread down the red path,” she broke off into quiet, shuddering sobs.

Winter gently tried to pat between her wings. “I don’t understand. But thank you for saving me. It was very kind of you. Especially after how - rude I was at first. And then the thing with my sister.” She blushed. She hadn’t meant to say that. 

The sobs coming from her chest slowly turned to laughs. “You tried to eat my  _ hair. _ ” she giggled.

“I was drugged! On - on snake venom! And you were lying on my - my torso!”

Helia giggled harder and smiled - wait. She  _ felt _ that smile.

“Oh no you don’t!” Winter scowled, trying to stop herself from smiling as she tried to push an enthusiastic Helia out of her bust. “Get out of there, you!”

“But it’s so comfyyy!” Helia whined, squirming and trying to cuddle in again.

“It’s not appropriate! And - what about this pillow, that’s got to be more comfy than those are.” She did her best not to blush. 

“You’re warm! And cuddly!” Helia argued, slipping out of Winter’s grasp - her last utterances were completely muffled by her ‘pillows’.

Winter was, by her estimation, likely the colour of a rather ripe plum. “Resting your head on them is, just about acceptable - burying your face in them like you’re my - paramour, is not!”

“Fooff fad!” Helia mumbled, nuzzling her and seemingly determined to continue until Winter accepted that she was very snuggleable.

“Helia.” She patted her head a little. “I’m only accepting this because you were upset.”

Aaand she was asleep. Because of course she was.

Winter sighed, lay back, closed her eyes and tried to ignore the fact that there was a small girl pressing her face into her breasts. She wasn’t very successful… Helia still reminded her of Weiss.

She missed home. But she was right when she said this was important. But - she wished Weiss could be here. With her sharp wit and voice and laughter. God, homesick already, already missing the long quiet halls and the library and the high arches of the training room. The… home.

She sighed again. She was doing this for Weiss. For Atlas. 

That was the whole point, wasn’t it?

-.-.-

_ You are not forgotten. You are lost. A shining soul the bulwark against despair the first flag to fall. You fight. You fight. You fall. You forge on.  _

_ They are not forgotten. They are not gone. You carry them on your shoulders but refuse to spread the pillars. _

_ You fall. _

_ They fall with you. _

_ Alone. _

_ Alone to the last breath. Even then you will not give up. Because you are the last. You are alone.  _

_ The furious bastion. _

_ You raise them. Build them. You lead them.  _

_ An empire rises and you forge them. The bulwark has turned into a legion.  _

_ You are many.  _

_ You share your burdens. Many hands make light work. _

_ The warrior empress.  _

_ It was taken. It was all taken. _

_ Never forget. Never forgive. _

_ Make them pay.  _

-.-.-

Yolona came to with a groan. Her first reaction upon consciousness was to grit her teeth and open her eyes. Can’t let herself get lazy. If she was awake she needed to be moving. Be ready. 

Her eyelids fluttered as she slowly adjusted to the bright light. Growling, she looked around for her helmet. Who dared take it from her? 

What… what had happened? Why was she here? 

Two grey and red mechs standing by the door, each flanked by a TSO in heavy combat gear. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” A woman stood over her, her silhouette blocking the light. “That shock you took was quite severe. You’ve got a powerful weapon there young lady.”

In any normal situation, Yolona would have snorted and ignored the perky nurse. But since this most definitely  _ wasn’t _ a normal situation, she grunted dismissively and tried to heave herself upright but stopped when her armour stayed down.

“I’m afraid we’ve had to keep you still in case you become upset again. General Ironwood doesn’t seem to think there’ll be much more danger, but better safe than sorry.”

Yolona growled, and started lifting her arm. It was a strain. She almost moved it before she heard a dangerous creak coming from it and stopped. Breaking the armour… that was not something she was willing to do just for a moment’s freedom. “Let me out.”

“I’m afraid we can’t until we’re sure that you won’t… lose your temper again.”

She gritted her teeth. She had not lost her temper for years. Testing something, she shifted her arm from side to side, getting a scraping noise. Magnets. Magnets were strong… She lifted her head to look, before giving up and letting it drop against the bed. The frame was much weaker than the magnets. 

“Do you remember what happened? What you did?”

“No.” Yolona rumbled, shifting her arm again. There was nothing to keep her armour contained by the magnets...

“You went berserk. Technically, not metaphorically - ”

“NO.” Yolona interrupted her, sliding her arm off the magnets and reaching over to grab her by the throat. “I  _ KNOW _ what a Berserker rage is like and that was  _ NOT _ it.” 

The TSOs drew their guns, the mechs arms transformed. Gnats. 

“We - checked - your - system. No unnatural - traces. Just standard - endocrinal hormones. You went berserk.” The woman did her best to pat Yolona’s arm. “It’s - fine. Happens - to the best - Berserkergang Hunters.”

Yolona scoffed and pushed her away, reaching around to yanks the thick cables from the wall leading to the bed. “That was not a real rage.  _ Sparring _ does not induce fighting to the last breath.”

“You’d be surprised.” The voice was soft, breathy, unexpected. 

“If it were that easy,” Yolona started, turning to glare, “The last bar brawl would have ended much differently.”

The person who spoke was shrouded in grey, rags and tatters that completely covered their form. Neither the soldiers nor the mechs seemed to react to their presence. They took a step towards Yolona, head tilting. 

“You’ve never fought Huntsmen in a spar before. The experience is different than a bar brawl.”

“It came too fast, too hard, to be natural.” Yolona argued, folding her arms and standing her ground.

“What is natural? The rage chooses when it comes. It is not a chemical process, it is a living, breathing thing and you have not been feeding it.” Their last words are a hiss. “No matter. The General has sent me to you. I am Myrrha. Should you join this school, you will join the other students in class. But you will also join me to learn to control and unleash your strength. So that it comes, and goes, with every fight. Mm?”

Yolona shook her head. “ _ That _ , whatever it was, was not natural. But I do look forward to controlling it,” she stood up straighter, and stopped glaring. “I am Yolona. I never thought I would see another outside of family.”

“I have seen a few others. Very few.”

Looking around, Yolona finally spotted her helmet and reached for it. “There aren’t many of us left,” she said, securing it firmly over her head again.

“Mm.” 

“If you would let me go, I need to retrieve my gear,” she growled, glaring at the guards by the door, who still seemed to have their weapons trained on her.

“You seem to be recovered. Go, then.” The person gestured, and the guards reluctantly stood aside. “I hope to see you at the end of this.”

Yolona grinned and nodded to her before leaving. “A worthy goal.”

-.-.-

_ Like a flash in the pan, in every sense, a spark and silence. _

_ Nothing more, nothing less. But maybe something in between. _

_ Careless. Observant. Limited. Trapped. Rushed.  _

_ An oblivious smile hides a shattered soul. Laughing and laughing as the blood washes higher to hold back the dark until he’s laughing at the darkness, laughing with it, letting it consume him to stay sane on second longer.  _

_ Or maybe it pulls back together. The fracture reverses, entropy lifts the egg from the floor, scooping the broken yolk into a whole and then into a sealing shell. Tick tock goes the clock.  _

_ How long. How long until the wrong moment, the wrong joke, the wrong fight? _

_ How long until you  _ **_break_ ** _? _

_ How long until you crumble to pieces?  _

_ How long until you scatter, like ashes in the wind? _

_ Loose cannon. Be wary of the spark. _

-.-.-

“Now we’ve all finished chuckling.” Heavy bootsteps. Deathstroke must’ve been be pissed. “Let’s talk about why what you did was stupid.”

Maverick raised his hand to give Slade a thumbs up. “Nah, I’m good,” he said, continuing to blankly stare at the ceiling, that one  _ goddamn _ rock digging into his back. 

“I - I know it was stupid. There’s no need to  _ tell _ me. I tried to attack another applicant - ”

“Fucking hell, that’s not it. It’s that you attacked one who was  _ helping take out the berserk lunatic _ . What. Were. You.  _ Thinking _ ?!”

“I - ”

“If I may interject,” Maverick started, lifting his head to lazily look at his pal, “As a self-confessed master of doing whatever the fuck seems like a good idea at the time, we don’t really give it much thought. We just… do,” he said, waving his hand a little, before shrugging. 

“That’s - that’s not a good reason to do anything at-fucking-all!” Man, Deathstroke was  _ very _ pissed. “She could have killed us all. She might easily have done it if you hadn’t done… moderately well at distracting her.”

“Eh, it’s probably one of those wrinkles we came here to smooth out.” Maverick shrugged, reaching under him to pull out that damn rock and lay back down. Damn, that was  _ much _ better. 

Ash frowned and opened her mouth for a moment, obviously searching for words. “Wh- did- does he actually have a point?” she asked incredulously. 

“ _ No _ !” Necrogirl’s voice was firm, but anguished. “W-what I did was wrong, and he’s right. It was inexcusable. I - I let my personal feelings get in the way of the safety of my teammates. That’s the least Huntsman-like behaviour  _ ever _ .”

“Not Huntsman yet!” Maverick reminded her, pointing at the ceiling before letting his arm flop down again. Damn, he really needed to stop overdoing it on his Semblance. At this rate he was going to feel lazy and lethargic for like… ages. 

“And I won’t be if I do that again. I can’t deny that I want her to  _ pay _ for everything, but I won’t exact that price on the field of battle. That’s unacceptable.”

Maverick groaned and rubbed his forehead. “What exactly  _ is _ the bad blood between you two anyways?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business.” Ash growled at him. He swore that voice gave him a buzzing headache for some reason…

“Ash.” Aphoth’s voice was gentle. She sighed, then said, “I can’t say. I  _ can’t _ . If I do, they kill me, my mother, Ash, all of you, and probably my extended family as well just in case. And yours.”

Raising his head, Maverick looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “So… are you two like long lost sisters or something…” he trailed off, mostly because of several angry glares in his direction. “Or something. Got it.”

“Dumbass.” Ash grumbled.

“Hey, at least I didn’t get faceplanted through a pillar!” Maverick shot right back.

“Is this really the time?” Deathstroke was being such a killjoy - good thing guitar girl wasn’t listening to him. 

“At least I’m up and moving.” Ash smirked. “You’ve got  _ zero _ stamina if you can barely even last one fight!”

“At least I didn’t  _ sleep _ through it.” 

“Will you  _ shut up!? _ ” Ash shouted at him. 

Maverick smirked. “ _ Make me. _ ” 

Ash got to her feet with a scowl and stomped over to him, looking pretty damn pissed. Which was the moment Titian entered, ducking her head to step through the doorframe. 

“Hey,” Maverick gave a little wave in greeting, completely throwing Ash off. “What’s happenin’?”

“Wh- how can you just- ARGH!” she stamped her feet in frustration before going back to Aphoth and sulking. Maverick smiled to himself. One bruising, happily avoided.

Titian frowned a little, though it was hard to tell behind that collar. “Little. Some of our comrades have received injuries too grievous to continue with the Trials, but the majority are in acceptable health.”

“She  _ reeealllly _ did a number on some of ‘em, huh?” Maverick grimaced, before lying back down. “I think I’mma just take a nap or something.”

A boot prodded him in the side. “No. We must discuss our response to Bastion.” 

“Who now?” Necrocutie was clearly still kinda out of it. And he had to remind himself not to call Necrocutie… Necrocutie. He liked his ears where they were, thank you very much.

“If I had to take a guess… the giant berserker girl?” Maverick supplied, shifting a little in his rock pile.

Titian nodded. 

“She’s dangerous.” Ol’ grumpy Deathstroke was firm. “Berserkers aren’t safe. All the stories make that clear.”

“I uhh…” Ash stopped her sulking for a moment, “Haven’t… actually heard any of them,” she said nervously. “I kinda regret that now.” 

“They’re cursed.” Titian’s arms fold as she leaned back against the wall. “They have the rage of the Grimm in their veins. The remnants of a beast that was so violent, so full of hunger it turned against its own kind.” Maverick raised an eyebrow at that.

Slade rolled his eyes. “That’s a myth. There’s no hint of grimmstuff in any berserker blood.”

“To be fair, grimmstuff tends to… y’know, fluff off after death and I don’t think a live dissection of a berserker is even  _ possible. _ ” Maverick piped up. 

“They’re cursed. Humans who made a  _ pact _ with the Grimm, who turned on their kind for power and became outcasts among both. Like Grimm, they get stronger as they get older. Smarter, faster, more able to control their rage. It’s said that the oldest and strongest berserkers are in that rage, that state of heightened perception speed and strength all the time, that they never leave it, only tempering and directing their rage to other sources.”

Ash fidgeted on the spot. “Well that sounds… pretty grim, to be hon-” 

Maverick snorted.

“Oh  _ you little shit- _ ”

“No, no, ignore me, continue,” Maverick waved her off, suppressing his laughter with shaking shoulders.

“I’m guessing that from that you’re not keen on her.” Aphoth’s voice was dry. 

“On the contrary. A curse is not its bearer’s fault, especially as it’s unlikely she was one of the first-bearers. And her capability in combat will certainly be useful. I merely want to make sure that this is understood, that despite her bearing the taint of Grimm this is not her fault.”

“There  _ are _ other theories out there,” Maverick reminded her, still unable to keep that smirk off his face at Ash’s pun. “Like that uhh… who was he…” he mumbled, trying to remember.

“Dr. Klaus Schwartz.” Slade’s expression was cautious though - why would he… oh, a Schwartz, and Titian’s little rant earlier. 

“Okay, just wanna say, while I don’t support their morals, they do have some pretty good theories,” Maverck interrupted quickly before Titian could follow up on that glare.

“Theories based on  _ torture _ .” Tallgirl was growling, hands unfolded and held at her side, spiked gauntlets trembling. 

“Regardless. He theorised that it was simply a form of hereditary semblance - a sub semblance, as it were, tied to a number of bloodlines. Or aura transfer or hereditary souls or something. The technical terms went over my head.”

“Huh… I guess they don’t like publishing their methods then, cos I hadn’t heard of that until now,” Maverick did his best to apologize. It was a pretty sobering moment after Ash’s… yeah. There went his good mood again. 

Aphoth shrugged. “It makes sense. Even if Klaus is a vile little prick.”

Ash looked confused. It was a really adorable look on her and it didn’t look like something he’d see often. “So… they got cursed by Grimm and it… went with their kids?” 

“ _ Applicants, please finish preparations for the next Trial. You will be collected and guided to the area within an hour. _ ”

A chorus of groans arose from around the Atrium. 

-.-.-

_ Cold. Cold. _

_ Ice. _

_ A man smirks cometakeit. Her sister learns/does not learn/never learns because she is dead, torn apart by unnatural steelflesh. She returns/does not return/never returns detonated by a bloodfeud. A woman wreathed in fire kills her. A giant wolfen beast kills her. A man with shimmering boots kills her.  _

_ All these paths into darkness, and so few into light. Weave the threads. Make her live. _

_ Make Winter live.  _

_ Don’t - don’t tread the red path. _

-.-.-


	8. Emergence Part III

-.-.- 

Winter was not dozing, and most certainly wasn’t dozing while resting her head on Helia’s soft hair and stroking along her wing. Because that would have been both embarrassing and disrespectful. And -

She sighed. She was a  _ mess _ . Leaping so quickly to protect someone she barely knew, someone irritating, a faunus, no less - and yet…  

And yet. 

Her confused words about it all being on her. The red path. The way she’d saved her, the feel of her hair against her cheek. 

She was just a teammate, right? Teammates could hug and joke with each other. She’d seen that show ‘Atlesian Military Badasses’ - ok, it had been about as unrealistic as anything could’ve been and she was convinced the girlfriends they’d shoehorned into the second season had purely been to dissuade any accusations of homosexuality between the squad members, but they’d hugged and talked with each other. One had even  _ cried _ . 

Helia purred a little, or a noise a little like purring as she breathed. Her face was still, quiet. She still had traces of childlike fat in her cheeks, despite her otherwise gaunt appearance. How old was she? What had she been through?

Could Winter ever really be friends with someone who she understood so little of? 

A crackle of speakers. “ _ Applicants, please finish preparations for the next Trial. You will be collected and guided to the area within the hour. _ ” Instinctively she’d reached to cover Helia’s ears, to keep her still and sleeping and, hopefully, happy. To drown out the noise of the world. 

She’d only known her for, at most, half a day. It was hard to keep track of time in here, but that was the longest that could have elapsed. Adrenaline? Bonding through combat? 

She didn’t understand how this was possible. People didn’t like her. Didn’t like Schnees. Especially not half-starved faunus. Was that all it took to make people like her? Cut her hair, hide her name? 

It was too confusing. Gently she shook Helia’s shoulder. 

“Wake up. The next Trial starts soon.”

Her only response was a halfhearted grumble a small shift in position with some light nuzzling before the tension left Helia’s body again.

“Helia. Helia.” Her shakes were halfhearted. “You need to wake up.”

“Mrrhh…” Helia murmured, not even so much as blinking before hiding her face in Winter’s jacket.

Winter sighed, then carefully pulled Helia closer, standing as slowly and gently as she could, picking up her spare belt of Dust vials and slinging them over her shoulder. Helia stirred a little, then buried herself further into Winter, curling tighter and closer. Like she was afraid of something outside pulling her away. 

Winter brushed a strand of hair from her face, then set off to find wherever the next Trial was. 

As she wandered down the hallways, following the path she remembered from the first time she came in, she started hearing footsteps. Loud footsteps. Probably security, or someone wearing heavy armour. 

Wait… 

She adjusted Helia slightly, fingers ready to form glyphs. 

She paused at the next corner as the footsteps became louder, clearer, and accompanied by the rustling of armoured joints. Peeking around the wall, she spotted the berserker… oddly calm. 

The giantess, Bastion, stopped before the door to stretch and roll her shoulders, the cracks and creaks of armour echoing menacingly, before continuing on her own journey.

_ They were letting that maniac monstrosity stay!? _

This was - this was  _ unacceptable _ . She’d attacked fellow applicants, likely severely injured or  _ killed _ some of them. And they were letting her continue her application? And she was  _ still _ drunk. She could smell the liquor wafting after the woman like a shield. 

Helia started shaking in her grip. Shivering? She took off her jacket and wrapped it over her. Hopefully… Helia slowly relaxed again, settling into a position that was somehow easier on Winter’s arms. She… she couldn’t have known to do that, right?

“Are you coming?” Bastion’s voice startled her.

“With you?” She’d meant that to sound more angry and dignified, and less confused. 

“Same Stream. Same Trials.” Bastion shrugged indifferently. 

Winter didn’t scream in frustration because that would wake up Helia. “I’m fairly sure I remember you trying to kill me. That doesn’t exactly foster an atmosphere of teamwork and co-operation.”

Bastion’s helmet tilted to the side a little. “You… froze me?” she asked, before nodding. “You’re a good fighter. Smart.”

Helia purred some more, nuzzling Winter and tightening her grip slightly.

“Thanks. I guess.”

“Come on, we don’t want to be late.” Bastion jerked her head at the other end of the hall before simply leaving Winter there to decide for herself whether she would follow.

She sighed, and followed. The woman at least seemed to know where they were meant to be going. If Winter was lucky, she’d stay silent, and she could forget that she was there -

“The rage wasn’t real.” Bastion rumbled, her voice reminding Winter of a bear. “You did well to hold me off as long as you did.”

“It felt pretty real to me. The part where you slammed people repeatedly into your shield or threw them through pillars.”

“Once.” Bastion corrected her, unsurprisingly steadfast in the face of accusation. “The rage... happened, yes, but it was unnatural.” 

Winter raised an eyebrow. “What does that even mean? Berserker rage is  _ always _ unnatural. It’s not the human norm.” Likely the result of  _ filthy crossbreeds _ father had used to say regarding the legends. Which Winter thought was a little unfair, but there was likely some truth to it. The rage was not normal, by any stretch of the imagination. 

Bastion snorted. “How long before house becomes home? I have lived with this. It is natural to me.”

“So. What  _ do _ you mean by unnatural.”

“It is like a hunger.” Bastion explained as they turned around a corner, one TSO looking up and quickly sidestepping to avoid being trampled. “You can feel it build, until it pains you to fast any longer.”

“So you weren’t hungry when you ate. To follow your analogy.”

“No. Force-fed would be a better term.”

“How is that possible?” Winter noted the tone of horror in her voice and did her best to squash it. But the idea of your semblance activating without your will, being controlled externally by some separate force… She shuddered. 

Bastion leaned slightly, towering over her as she said in a low voice, “I don’t know. But I plan to find out.”

Winter was unashamed to admit to herself that her world was a lot less claustrophobic when outside Bastion’s shadow. The woman filled space in a way that seemed impossible - her rolling smell of alcohol and metal, her vast plated form, her rumbling voice. To stand beside her was to feel squashed, no matter what. 

Even Helia seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when they entered the Atrium and parted ways. The other - survivors, she guessed, of Stream Charlie stood around in small groups, chatting amongst themselves. Including  _ her _ . She was half hiding behind the girl with the guitar. 

“Hey, Ice Queen!” that  _ moron _ Maverick called out to her, leaning against the wall with his group of stragglers. Guitar-girl,  _ her _ , Watcher, and that shaggy, grey-haired man Winter remembered for wanting to kick Maverick’s ass. “And He… hea-li-ah?” 

Winter glared and resisted the urge to launch into a kick that would no doubt wake the Faunus up.  

“Uh, hi, I don’t think we’ve met yet,” guitar-girl waved shyly. “I’m Ash..lyn. Ashlyn.” she repeated, sneaking distracted glances at Maverick’s ‘friend’. He… wasn’t bad looking, Winter supposed, but anyone who hung around that lunatic immediately became less attractive. And he just seemed too - hard and harsh for her tastes. To each their own, she guessed. 

“Winter.”

Maverick’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “ _ Schnee?! _ ” he hissed in surprise. 

Ashlyn got this odd look of dawning epiphany on her face before she paled slightly… something quite surprising considering her already alabaster skin tone. “Ohhh….”

“What? No, that’s ridiculous. Winter Schnee has long hair. My hair’s short.”

She could feel a heavily muffled snort-giggle from Helia. 

“It’s possible.” Grey-haired’s eyes narrowed. Slade. His name was Slade, she thought, she remembered. Or Slate. “You have got the Schnee colouration. The pale hair, the grey or blue eyes…”

Ash shot an exceedingly nervous glance at  _ her _ as Maverick began laughing his ass off. The prick. “You - oh my god - a haircut and a-” he broke off into choked laughter as his exhaustion seemed to catch up on him and take his breath away. 

“My last name’s -” Think, Winter, think! “My last name’s Eira.” Hah, she bet none of them knew the Old Atlesian for snow. “And Winter isn’t even my first name, it’s my middle name. My first name is… Mary.”

Maverick’s laughter turned into pained wheezing as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor, unable to breathe.

“Winter Schnee. Eldest daughter of Orion Schnee.” Watcher unfurled herself and strode forward, shoving Ashlyn and the others aside. “The sins of the father shouldn’t be visited upon the child, but your father’s sins are many indeed.” She stopped, inches away from her. “Should you be Winter Schnee. Rest assured that the retribution that my people are due will be torn, strip by strip from your screaming flesh.”

Winter didn’t recoil in disgust… even if she did twist her body to shield Helia from this madwoman. But before she or any of the others could so much as say anything about the outburst, Winter heard a minute  _ shink _ and Watcher growled, stepping back, or trying to at least. 

Winter looked down at Helia, who was definitely awake, no matter how many sleepy noises she made. She frowned. “Stabbing people isn’t nice. Even if they threaten me.”

“Mrph.” Helia grumbled, retracting her knife from Watcher’s foot and refusing to open her eyes. It twirled in the air between Winter and her… assailant for a moment, before returning to her… holster, robe… thing.

Titian - that was Watcher’s name, wasn’t it? - twitched her foot experimentally, then made a noise somewhere between a growl and a harrumph. “Inconvenient. But what I said remains true. Schnees bring nothing but death.”

“You said the child shouldn’t pay for the parent’s sins and then promised to take your retribution from the torturing of the innocent.” Slade frowned. “Isn’t that a contradiction?”

“I said they shouldn’t be. But in the absence of Orion Schnee, sometimes one has to make do.”

“That’s the kind of attitude that would re-start the Great War.” Ashlyn scowled. “Your parents hunted down mine so why don’t I grab everyone I know and start hunting down you? Since, you know, your parents aren’t here so I’ll just have to ‘make do’.”

“That would be a viable solution, yes. Not the ideal one, but viable.” Titian looked around at the stunned group. “Your distaste for the Great War is bizarre. The ideals expressed therein were atrocious, but the fight itself was necessary. To cower back from similar atrocities, toothless, for fear of the slain is the highest level of stupidity. But I see I cannot convince you of that.”

Ashlyn’s jaw dropped. “Uh,  _ hello? _ Aphy  _ summons the dead. _ I have every right to fear the slain!” she exclaimed, sending Maverick into another fit of helpless laughter. 

Helia growled. “Death only breeds death. Your plan is to get back at the Schnees for faunus deaths by killing one of them. How, in  _ any _ way, does this make things  _ better? _ ” Helia hissed at her. “So you kill a Schnee. Then what? You expect  _ him _ to have a sudden epiphany of guilt and become a faunus supporter?  _ People like you are why we’re oppressed. _ ” 

Titian’s teeth bared behind her collar. “ _ No _ . People like you who  _ sit _ and -”

“Candidates.” General Ironwood, to one side of the Atrium. “I’m sorry it took a while for you to get here. Given the recent incident, it had been decided that you have passed the second stage of the Trials. Fighting a berserker is no easy task. Now, for the final stage. If you could all follow me?”

Titian growled and fixed Helia with a final glare, who responded by sticking her tongue out at the aggressive faunus.

Winter frowned. “Helia, don’t antagonise the psychopath.”

“I’m only following her example…” Helia grumbled, nuzzling Winter again.

“And you just explained why that’s a poor idea.” She tapped Helia on the nose. “Don’t do it.” 

The discussion… had given Winter something to think about.  _ Were _ the Dust Company’s policies really so bad that they inspired such hatred? Her father gave Faunus jobs, did he not? Took them from the streets? Mining and refining was hard work, and could be dangerous… but that was explained to them. Right? 

She frowned as the stench of alcohol washed over her senses, Bastion re-armed and falling into step beside her. Before she could even ask what she thought she was doing, Maverick, the interrupting prick, hadn’t seemed to have filled his quota for annoying her yet.

“So… uhh… berserker lady,” he started, putting Winter between himself and Bastion, “No hard feelings?”

Oh  _ of course _ the moron would use her as a wall for a question like that.

Bastion turned to look at him. Despite the unflinching helmet, Winter could almost see the indignant confusion written on her face. She shook her head and shrugged, shouldering her shield.

“Uhhhhh… good? That is good, right? That's the good headshake and shrug?” Maverick asked, looking around for confirmation.  

“She hasn’t killed you yet.” Winter smirked, just a little. 

“She couldn’t even land a  _ hit  _ on me _. _ ” Maverick grinned. “You-”

Bastion snorted. “Say that again when we spar,  _ boy _ .”  

“Fair enough. Hey, where did you even learn the Spartan Kick? I thought it came from that Spruce Willis movie… that uhh…”

“Arkos.” Winter supplied.

“Yeah, Arkos- wait,  _ you’ve _ seen Arkos?” Maverick almost tripped in surprise. Quickly righting himself, he gave Winter an uncomfortably long scrutinising look. 

“I was preparing for an Old Valean exam, and I thought it was educational.” Winter tried not to sneer. “I was very wrong.”

Maverick doubled over, trying to hold in his laughter with shaking shoulders. “ _ Very. _ ” he snorted. “Seriously though, Ladybug, Monochrome, or Bumblebee?” 

“Monochrome of course. Do I look like a savage?” She did actually sneer then. “I imagine you’re fond of Lancaster.”

“ _ God no _ ,” Maverick recoiled, “Nuts and Dolts all the fucking way!” 

“I think that was rendered violently non-canon. Alas.” She leant back a little at that, pretending to fall into a half-swoon, then straightening as Helia started to slip. 

“You know damn well she never found anyone else.” Maverick tried to look serious - and completely failed. It was probably the insane smile.

“I always liked Snow Angels.” Bastion rumbled, surprising both of them. 

Winter blinked in wide-eyed surprise. Maverick burst out laughing. Helia giggled, nuzzling Winter a little. Winter turned plum-red again as she realised what the pair - no, the  _ trio - _ were implying. She shot a glare at Bastion, who merely chuckled at her indignance. 

“You’re all incorrigible. Incorrigible lunatics.” She buried her face in a convenient fold of Helia’s robes. Wait, no, that wouldn’t help! 

“Uh-huh.” Maverick quipped obnoxiously, his everpresent shit-eating grin in place. 

“I don’t suppose any of you have seen the sequel  _ or _ the series?” Slade had a grin of his own. 

Winter froze. “O-of course I have. Haven’t. Because it’s silly. I did know about them though. Definitely.”

“Holy shit,  _ when?! _ ” Maverick gawked. “We should- no, we  _ need _ to-” he waved his arms about, “Y’know. I forgot the word.” 

“Watch?” Slade’s voice was dry. “I’ve heard that’s what you do with films. Watch them.”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” that  _ oblivious _ moron grinned again. “Man, I hope Baked Alaska never gets off the ground, Freezerburn was  _ way _ better.” 

“No. Just - no.” Winter shook her head firmly. “The characters have no screen chemistry at all. Except  _ maybe _ that one scene with them fighting those two people? But compare with Alaska - there’s so much  _ tension _ there. It works better on every level.” Under her breath she added, “Moron.”

“Aside from that whole  _ intimacy  _ and  _ trust _ thing they have going on, you mean.” Maverick smirked. Oh yes, he’d definitely heard her.  _ Prick.  _ “Special Snowflakes though.”

“They’re sisters.” Winter in no way supported the intense chemistry between them, the surging tension in every scene and line of dialogue, the way their eyes met - “It’d be wrong.”

Slade smirked. “Pity.”

Winter whipped around and glared at him. “NO!” she yelled, “DO  _ NOT _ SPOIL IT FOR ME!” 

“Eyyyy, you do care!” Maverick grinned madly and threw his arms out in celebration, moments before bumping into someone. Winter, of course, had been paying attention to her surroundings and had no such problem. 

“Hey, watch it!” the… astoundingly brightly coloured girl hissed at him, before returning her attention to the front of the crowd, where Ironwood stood on a balcony overlooking the stream. 

“Silence, please. You are moving into the last stage of the Trials. For those of you curious, the remaining applicants from your stream are as follows. Aphoth. Ashlyn. Avos. Ciane. Diamant…” Ironwood continued to read out the list of names. Only first names. 

Winter breathed a quiet sigh of relief at that. 

“Gerard, Helia, Helena…” at the mention of her name, Helia perked up a little, before snuggling back down. “Krypton…”

“That’s me~” the colourful brat with the tail almost squealed. Disruptive.

“Lisa, Maverick, Norman…” and there was the moron… “Slade, Titian, Vivian, Winter and Yolona.” Ironwood looked up at them. “Congratulations.”

Watcher and Bastion had both reacted to one of those last few names. So Watcher was  _ definitely _ Titian, and Bastion must have been Yolona. She couldn’t help but wonder which person Vivian was. Irrelevant, Winter, focus!

“Huh, I wonder what happened to  _ Mary _ …” Maverick whispered knowingly to her, leaning over just a bit before giving her a cheeky wink and a smirk.

Winter gritted her teeth and did her best not to punch him in the face. Again. Maybe she could get a blow in during the next trial - 

Before the murmur of the crowd could gather momentum again, Ironwood raised a hand to quieten them. “This is the last stage. Hopefully there won’t be any more… unexpected interruptions, but, well, Hunters are adaptable. Those of you skilled enough will be able to adapt to the situation as it changes - a vital part of any Hunter’s arsenal. But, without further ado…”

The room  _ shifted _ . The walls peeled away, folding up on unseen hinges and springs, the sections of the floor rotating and moving so Ironwood’s platform was behind them rather than in front, the walls folding and forming into a long, wide corridor. A long corridor traced with a winding red-on-black path. 

“The test is simple. Make it to the end of the corridor without severe injury.” Ironwood smiled. “See you on the other side.”


	9. The Red Path

-.-.-

Nobody moved for several moments as Ironwood stood there, watching them. An… air of confusion swept through the assembled applicants. Was there a starting signal they needed to wait for? An alarm?

Winter tried to look more closely at the corridor, but given how the room had shifted a number of the other applicants blocked her line of sight. It looked - modular, yes. The walls were held in place, could shift, she supposed. And there was that path - was there writing on it? It was hard to tell. The red path was almost certainly a - 

The red path.  _ The red path _ . 

It was at that moment that the wall under Ironwood’s balcony began to glide inexorably forward towards the crowd, towards the corridor. Like a hand sweeping chaff towards a bin. 

Helia sighed, yawned, and tried to clamber out of Winter’s grip, stretching as her knives held her in the air. Winter clutched a little for her - how could she leave her to face this whatever-it-was alone - but no, she was a Schnee, for whatever that meant. She took a few cautious steps forward - 

And was thrown back by that ignorant, idiotic _ dimwit  _ Red, who was running past without a care in the world and swinging her flaming sword as though it could ward off whatever threats she faced, realised or not. 

“Three… two…” Helia counted down.

That moron stepped onto the black of the corridor, still swinging. 

The ground sank a little beneath them, and there was a faint whistle, almost imperceptible, a small hole opening in the wall to her right. The girl collapsed, a foot long dart sticking from her throat, eyes rolled back into her skull. 

Panicked erupted almost instantaneously. 

“RED!” the innately  _ grating _ shriek of Blue assaulted everyone’s ears. Of course, she rushed ahead, skipped over the pressure plate Red had stepped on, and fell prey to something even worse. Worse being a series of iron lashes that grabbed her and pulled her screaming away behind the walls, from which there was an unpleasant series of crunches before the screaming stopped. 

Winter chanced a glance behind her. Ironwood was chuckling quietly. The psychotic prick. How  _ dare  _ he - 

She caught the barest glimpse of a feathered limb retreating through the passage behind him. Helia? But the objective was over -

“CHAAAAAAARGE!” Maverick yelled, riding on Yolona’s back. Winter briefly boggled at the sight of the ridiculousness.

Yolona growled, not even bothering to shake him off as she brought up her shield and did just that. Winter swore she felt the ground shake just a little with each thundering step Bastion took. So she watched, in dumbstruck awe, as Yolona triggered her first trap. The floor opened up before her, denying her next step - and she was gone, Maverick whooping as - as the ignorant bastard  _ cheated _ and… used his semblance. 

Despite the pair’s somehow legitimate strategy garnering an outcry from the rest of the stream, Winter was honestly a little impressed. It was as good an idea as any, using Yolona’s durability and Maverick’s speed together. She was forced to take a few more steps by the encroaching wall, stepping onto the ribbonpath at last, rolling under the dart that had taken out Red. A set of saws whizzed past along the floor, an inch from her nose, and she vaulted over them, using her sabre to briefly jam one in place. A pit yawned open in front of her, but she place a pair of glyphs under her feet, bounded across. 

No, she had to stop reacting. She needed a valid strategy. Maybe - the ceiling, wouldn’t be trapped, right? Or not as trapped?

She sighed. No point holding anything back now, at the final part. She knelt, stabbing her sabre in the ground, the familiar spinning weight of her glyphs settling around her as she drew a line of them across the ceiling, enough to keep her stuck to them. A twist of her hand and the repulsion glyph launched her up to them, landing feet first, running as fast as she could despite the rush of blood to her head, the terrifying flip in orientation. 

She managed to dodge the first two traps through sheer speed. The swinging blades she slowed for a moment then stepped through. 

A thundering crash forced her to lose her balance as Yolona crashed through a pop-up barrier, barely even slowing down as Maverick lost his grip. She looked back briefly - Aphoth was surrounded by a phalanx of whispering shadowy candidates - she recognised some from the entryway. The shadows triggered traps for her, formed human shields, held traps in place even as their unliving flesh was cut away, allowing her to jog past, Ashlyn following in her wake. Slade was a marvel to behold, simply running and flipping and dodging past the traps, taking the odd hit but surviving, somehow. Beside him were Blue and Red - wait,  _ what? _ \- the disheveled sniper holding her comrade over one shoulder as she stumbled on, shaking her head slightly as if to clear a fog. Looking back more carefully… something had broken open the wall she’d been dragged into. Yolona? Or Blue herself?  

Titian was ahead of her. Winter didn’t know how. 

And she couldn’t see Helia anywhere. She - where was she? Had she really just gone out the door behind Ironwood? That was ludicrous. And - and why had she left anyway? She’d stuck to Winter like some sort of irritating cuddly glue before. 

Her glyphs flickered. She’d lost concentration, she tried to focus again… but she was already falling away, landing on the floor with a rolling thump that thankfully took her out of the way of a stomping spike plate. 

Helia. She had to get through this to find Helia. Titian was using her grapple knife, swinging, pulling herself forward. That was how she’d got ahead. Winter didn’t run with her glyphs this time - instead she bounced from one to another through the air, steadily catching up. 

She checked her Dust vials. The Schnee semblance liked Dust, devoured it like a flame devoured wood, and she was already running low. A quickly thrown ice vial and set of glyphs froze a set of jabbing spears in place. 

Titian was level with her, her giant flaming sword melting through walls of steel that hampered her progress. She felt the girl’s eyes land on her glyphs, heard her snarl. But she continued through the course, making no motion to attack. 

Which was a pleasant change. 

She looked back. 

Ironwood’s platform was moving faster, she thought. A few more stragglers had been caught by it. Aphoth’s army was dwindling, her relying more and more on her khopesh-staff to try and cut through or evade traps. 

Ashlyn seemed to be exceedingly adept at outright avoiding traps altogether. Once or twice Winter caught her trying to stop and  _ almost _ losing her balance. Could she see which steps were safe ones? Something to do with her semblance, and the way she’d used the guitar earlier… did she have sound manipulation? Sound detection? Semblance speculation was always so difficult. 

The one time she  _ did _ lose her balance, it was because Yolona had smashed through  _ another _ barrier. Ashlyn barely managed to roll out of the way in time before picking up the pace again, using her axe as a vaulting pole.

Maverick’s insane cheering ground on Winter’s nerves and she grit her teeth, promising to herself she’d get him back another time. The wall was getting a lot closer - wait, was that girl sitting on her sword? Yes, a red cloaked girl had jammed her sword into the balcony and sat there, legs dangling. 

She had the audacity to  _ wave. _ She even winked at her! If she was related to Maverick… 

A shiver went down her spine. One was bad enough.  _ Two _ of them were just -

“Hey, need help?” Ashlyn asked, surprising her as she carefully step-stoned up to her.

Winter leapt over a whirling set of blades, feeling a couple nick her aura, her uniform. “I can manage.” That was a little too terse - “But thank you for your offer.”

“Alri-  _ DUCK! _ ”

Winter fell onto her front, trying to ignore the pain of the air being squashed from her by the impact. Above her, a large section of wall had flipped to reveal a grasping cyclone of steel that she definitely would not have been able to dodge without warning.

She threw out a green Dust crystal, focusing it through a series of glyphs into a tightly controlled implosion of air that wrecked the machine. The remaining currents were easily directed to assist Ash and launch her further forward - with a startled yelp. Maybe she should have told her first? 

Ash twisted and landed badly on her shoulder, triggering a trap. Something disturbingly worm-like shot out of the ground and -  _ and ate her head. _

She’d got the girl into that situation she was going to get her out. 

Another glyph launched her forward, sword drawn. She had to get her  _ out _ . The worm thrashed aside, flinging Ash’s body with it, her muffled screams audible through the metal. Winter slashed at it twice, but only scratched the thing - and the balcony was still approaching, faster than ever before. 

A shambling ghost, its face a patchwork of holes and shadowed bone, fell to its knees next to Ash, raising it’s buzzsaw-coated gauntlet and bringing it down on the armoured plates of the robotic worm. Sparks and slivers and scales flew everywhere as Ash continued to scream and kick, trying to pry the thing’s maw off her neck.

“ _ Tell mama I’m sorry, _ ” whispered the ghost, hacking wildly. A second crawled next to it, crying tears of black blood, its arms mangled wrecks. “ _ It hurts so much it hurts so much my bones I can’t move my arms - _ ”

It touched the worm and the metal began to rust. 

Ash’s screaming had turned into pained whimpering. Half the remaining applicants were in the safe zone. Slade was beside Winter and the ghosts, a simple curved sword in his hand. Together they struck the weakened metal - then Slade’s limbs multiplied, like they had before, cutting more of it away from the poor girl’s face. 

Aphoth ran past over a pit on a bridge of ghosts. They collapsed into nothingness in her wake. “Come on!” She looked back, paled on seeing Ash on the other side and she reached for her, but the gap was too far. 

“We’re trying!” Winter snapped back, her heart pounding in her ears as the Wall got  _ closer _ and they couldn’t get her out it might just decapitate her and -

“You owe me for this, Rockstar,” Maverick chuckled, suddenly  _ right there _ and grabbing her and not right there anymore. “Focus, Ice Queen~” Maverick taunted, his voice far away and -

The Wall the Wall was getting closer so much closer far too quick -

“Hello, love!” the ridiculously cheery woman in red waved to her, standing on her sword. “Try not to get run over!” 

This was - this was - 

“Unacceptable!”

The Dust vials flew to her hands. The glyphs spread from her fingers, multicoloured, a tracked layering of symbols spread across the base of the balcony. White and blue and green and red and black and cyan and yellow and more. She lit them all off at once, rock pillars slamming into and through melting metal, ice sealing it back in place, wind and gravity battering and trying to slow the juggernaut, time dilation, more. 

It hurt, doing this many glyphs at once. She was screaming her fury, at this stupid test, at Helia for abandoning her, at her father, at Maverick and the red dressed girl. Her fingers clenched and spasmed, and she collapsed.

It was over. It had to be over. 

Something nudged her foot. 

It was the wall.  It was still moving. Slowly, but still moving. 

“Bloody hell, love,” the woman in red crouched behind her, patting her on the shoulder. “That was a damn good show. Buuuut we still need to get moving.”

Winter couldn’t muster enough effort to reply.

“Fair enough,” the lady shrugged, pulling her sword out of the ground and jamming it back into the wall, just over Winter’s head. “I’m Vivian, and it is a  _ pleasure _ to meet you~” she purred right in Winter’s ear as she wrapped her arms around the exhausted girl and pulled her onto the makeshift platform.

She barely noticed when Ironwood stepped back to lean over the balcony and give them both a stern look. “Well. As my machine appears to be broken - congratulations on failing the test. All of you.” He looked over the crowd of shocked applicants. “If we are entirely technical, only one applicant passed this test. But…” Ironwood sighed. “We can consider all of you passed, for now.”

“Only one?” Vivian gasped. “Was it the pretty one~?” 

Winter felt the grip holding her up tighten a tiny bit. She tried to squirm free a bit, but she still was too shocked to really do it. First the wall and the glyphs then Vivian and - wait, they’d lost? Who’d won? 

“Helia, please step forward.” Ironwood commanded. Nothing happened for a moment. Nothing happened for several moments. “Helia?”

“Here!” Helia’s small voice cried out as she emerged from doorway, Winter barely spotting her hand waving about amongst the crowd of those who’d made it to the other side. 

“... where were you?” Ironwood asked, frowning slightly.

“Uh, the… y’know…” Helia shuffled awkwardly on the spot, her cheeks turning pink. “Couldn’t find the bathroom.” 

“Ah.” Ironwood nodded. “That makes sense.”

A lot of awkward shuffling throughout the room. Did nobody realise that mid-action bathroom breaks could be an issue in their Hunting career?

A small shudder nearly made Vivian drop her. “Oh, finally turned the bloody monstrosity off?” 

Winter groaned. She could see- she could  _ feel _ the edges of her vision turning dark as the strength left her limbs and Ironwoods words turned to mush in her ears. 

“Hey, mine!” Helia’s muffled claim rang through her head as she was set down on the floor.

Darkness claimed her.

-.-.-

_ Endless… endless… void. Void. More nothing.  _

_ Pain, exhilaration. Adrenaline, hurt. _

_ Sadist. Darkness. Endless...  _

_ pPAAAAAAAINnnnN _

-.-.-

She woke up on a couch. She was honestly surprised to be unharmed, considering Titian’s… view on her. As more awareness returned to her, she noticed a weight on top of her. A weight that purred.

Helia… her very own guardian angel. What on Remnant had she done to deserve her? That could be interpreted both ways of course, and Winter meant it both ways. The minx could be a right pain - and still save her life. Could speak and annoy with utter gibberish - then cuddle her close and say the cutest things. What a conundrum. 

Helia shifted and nuzzled her, just… rubbing her face against Winter’s uniform. The motion seemed oddly endearing. 

“Oh hey, Ice Queen’s awake!” 

Winter glared in Maverick’s general direction. “ _ Maverick. _ ”

The orange haired boy grinned and put his hands behind his head. Now that Winter could get a decent look at him… he didn’t look any better. His faded black - no, grey now - pants were scuffed, his jacket was worn thin, and the only parts of his attire that looked like they were even vaguely maintained were the pair of pistol holsters strapped to his thighs and the goggles on his head. 

All in all, his very… bright attire was quite an eyesore. 

“Ice Queen~” he smirked, bowing over-extravagantly. “M’lady, your royal entourage awaits,” he said in a false-posh accent. 

A swift blow from behind from an olive skinned hand clipped Maverick’s head. “You sound like a moron, kid.” Slade stepped into view, still wearing his heavy black and orange combat gear. 

“What’s new then?” Winter cracked her neck, and half started to lift herself up before remembering Helia’s weight on top of her. Damnit. 

“You try,” Maverick chuckled, helpfully stepping out of the way and gesturing to the spot as if to say ‘please, go on’ to Slade. “After you fainted, and got molested by Viv-” 

Winter’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“He’s lying!” a vaguely familiar voice called from behind the couch. “Though, if you weren’t already claimed, I wouldn’t mind coppin’ a feel,” the lazy red lady, Vivian, leant over the couch and looked Winter right in eye before giving her a cheeky wink. 

“I’ll - I’ll cop you!” Wait, that made no sense. “I mean, try it, scumbag!”

“Oooh, feisty~” Vivian remarked rather excitedly. “People have wanted to molest me before, love, but none quite as enthusiastically as you!” Maverick falling to the floor in laughter was more than a little distracting.

“Ahem.” Titian. Winter stiffened, hand twitching - she couldn’t reach for her sword with Helia on top of her - “We should get going unless we wish to be late. Schnee?” Titian extended her hand. 

“Is that we call her Ice Queen?” Ashlyn asked, popping into view from… somewhere? She seemed to be very good at hiding in the background. Something Winter found quite odd, what with the startling number of belts and metal studs her leather attire was adorned with. All black, metal, and sometimes with the barest streak of red to throw a dash of colour in. Though that may have simply been blood from other applicants… a notion Winter found quite unsettling. 

“No, that’s ‘cause she’s a cold-hearted bit-” Maverick was cut off by another idiot smack. 

_ Thank you, _ Slade.

“I thought you were going to kill me?”

Titian nodded. “Oh I will, one day. But despite my outburst earlier I am capable of patience. Your death now would, having given the matter consideration, simply invite further reprisals. But on the dawn of revolution…”

“Why not have the revolution spearheaded by a Schnee?” Helia mumbled, her one good wing stretching out and flapping twice before curling against her back again. Winter resisted the urge to touch the fluffy feathers or stroke Helia’s wing.

“That allows the bourgeoisie of the old world to remain in charge, little one. Paradise can’t be achieved that way.”

“He who maketh hell have the ability to maketh heaven.” Helia stated, yawning and stretching. Winter would have complained about her boney butt, but she could barely feel her weight on top of her as it was.

“Win the war with the Grimm, then fight your petty squabbles.” Yolona growled, striding over. With Helia shifting, Winter could finally sit up, and she found herself gawking at the woman approaching the group. 

Even outside her armour, Yolona still towered head and shoulders over everyone bar Titian. And she had  _ hair.  _ Even braided it reached past the small of her back, thick, dark, and heavy. How could anyone bear to have that much of the stuff? 

She stood there, planted her feet and folded her arms. Even at a distance Winter could see the effect Yolona had the others. Her muscles, her scars… she’d  _ fought _ to get here. She had a quartet of tattoos on her left shoulder, small symbols left in the open - they looked like more than just whimsies. Memorabilia of those she’d lost, perhaps? If she’d been wearing her chainmail fully-fastened, instead of letting it hang from her waist, Winter never would have known about them.

“I disagree, but I see your view, Bastion.” Titian nodded, shifting her weight to the other foot. She wouldn’t give any ground, that much was obvious. 

Aphoth moved into view. Outside of the trials, being drugged, or ambushed, Winter could get a clearer look at her - the mess of deep black hair, the pale skin and heavy eyeliner. The black lace dress was new, Winter thought - she remembered Aphoth wearing something different for fighting, but either way the black and green khopesh was sheathed at her side. 

“We should get going. As fun as debating politics is…”

Helia seemed to glare at her. Helia was wearing a bright orange  _ blindfold. _ Winter had no idea how that worked, but it did. 

“Hey, the whole gang’s together!” Maverick suddenly realised loudly. Everyone turned to give him a look of some kind of another. “What? It’s a valid observation.” 

With a sigh, Winter started for the hall. Anything to get away from Maverick -

And he was following her. 

Winter scowled. 


	10. Celebrations

-.-.-

A banquet hall. A rather… novel use of a mess hall, but Winter supposed that was more due to the food on offer than anything else about the room. The instant the smell had hit her was the moment she realised how utterly famished she was. 

No matter what previous disagreements everyone had, the idea of a warm meal put any thoughts of conflict to rest. 

Helia, in stark contrast, had whimpered and nearly doubled over, prompting Winter to carry her again. Neither of them seemed to mind. But Winter was - well, Helia’s reaction was worrying. Both for what it said about her, and because given the noises her stomach was making, a pack of Gryphons were about to burst out and attack the assembled applicants. Hunters, now, she supposed.  

“Man, that smells like  _ heaven. _ ” Maverick commented, actually getting a murmur of agreement for once. The group found an empty table that was absolutely loaded with delicacies and mouthwatering platters of food, doing their best to just sit down and wait before digging in.

Vivian happily dragged over a chair of her own when she saw there weren’t any spots left, the screeching noise audible over the murmur of students.

“Attention please, everyone,” an unfamiliar voice announced. A stern, blonde woman stood at the podium overlooking the mess hall, wearing a cape and holding a… riding crop?

“Oooh, looks like Ironshaft’s found himself a fancy~” Vivian whispered conspiratorially. 

“Thank you,” she said as the murmur fell into silence and the occasional cough. “As you all know, not all of those who applied made it through the Trials. Now I want each and every one of you to remember those who have fallen, and to never think of yourselves as above them. Don’t  _ ever _ get cocky. You have the lives of four Kingdoms and everyone between them resting on your shoulders. Make sure you are worthy of upholding that burden.”

And with that, she left.

Ironwood stood where she had. “Now. With that having been said, celebrations are in order. You’ve passed.” He smiled. “Congratulations on joining Atlas Academy.”

A giant cheer rose up through the crowd and caused Winter to wince at the sheer intensity of it. She brought her hands up to cover Helia’s ears- “ _ Hey, put that back! _ ” she hissed, catching the  _ darling _ little hellion with half a roast baby potato in her mouth. 

“ _ Mmuhhh… _ ” Helia whined, giving her puppydog eyes. Winter’s heart nearly melted before she steeled her resolve and slipped Helia’s blindfold down again. 

“ _ Fine, but stop and wait for everyone else, okay? _ ” 

“ _ Mokay… _ ” she grumbled, chewing slowly.

The cheers had died away, and Ironwood was continuing. “Some of you may be wondering about team assignments or class schedules. Be assured that they will be arranged - tomorrow. Tonight is a chance to recover, and enjoy yourselves. You’ve earned it, all of you.”  There were more cheers, followed by an awkward silence. Ironwood chuckled. “You don’t have to wait for my permission. Please, enjoy!”

A much  _ louder _ cheer came up this time, much to the amusement of the staff and the clear chagrin of the General. 

“Fee, fofally okay!” Helia exclaimed with her mouth full of bread. She’d already filled her plate with enough food to feed  _ Yolona _ and was digging in with vigor. Winter more cautiously reached for what looked like a few light cuts of lamb and some smooth mashed potatoes. 

Which, when she smelled them, turned out to be spiced. Mistralian, maybe? She took a bite and pondered the flavour, before deciding it was rustic, in an interesting way. And she’d thought the military only served those hard-baked square things. MRFs? What did that even stand for?

The general murmur rose once again as the new horde of students began to eat and converse with one another. 

“Whoa, slow down,” Maverick chuckled, pointing at Helia with the hot greasy leg of some beast. “You’ll choke.” 

The poor thing had what looked to be half a loaf of bread stuck in her mouth - Winter resisted the urge to criticise her table manners and ask if she was raised in a barn because she might have been - and was half mouthing at it, hands flailing excitedly. Winter carefully cut a small square of her meat and ate it, noting that it was, in her opinion, a little overdone, then carefully reached over to rest a hand on Helia’s back as she began making uncomfortable noises. 

She was hopping up and down in her seat, craning her head forward and grabbing at her neck. Her wings were fluffed up and twitching as her chest started heaving weakly. 

She couldn’t breathe - Winter lifted her hand and struck, two hard pats on her back to try and dislodge any remnants of food. 

There was a fizzle and a flicker of white around Helia as half the chunk of bread landed back on her plate. 

“ _ Glurk! _ ” Helia coughed several times, finally clearing her airways - and several of the others paused to stare. Her Aura had just… “Oh my god this stuff is so good it’s like - like-” she shook on the spot for a moment, a dazed look on her face as she tried to come up with words, “ _ really _ good!” she exclaimed, grabbing a non-choked-on chunk and trying to stuff it in her mouth. 

Winter grabbed it from her, tearing it into more sensible chunks. “Smaller pieces!” Then, after a moment’s thought - “And put some butter on it to help your aura.”

“I would say  _ told you so _ , but are we just going to ignore the fact her aura broke with a  _ pat on the back? _ ” Maverick asked, frowning heavily as he tore another chunk of meat with his teeth, like a barbarian. A quick glance at Yolona confirmed that yes, it was just like a barbarian.

“Of course not! It’s why I told her to have butter. Some of us actually studied aura before coming here. And… she was probably tired out after the Trials. My aura’s pretty low too, I’m sure.” Though not  _ that _ low. How - did she not have it fully unlocked? She’d read a story about that once, but she’d thought it was a story. 

_ Or maybe her reserves are low because she’s an animal. _

Winter hissed to herself. Faunus might be criminals or lazy, but despite their characteristics, to describe them as nothing more than animals was nothing short of anatomically incorrect. And Helia did not seem to be criminal, or lazy. Odd, certainly, but not those. 

And she wasn’t eating. She cut herself a few more slices of meat, enjoying the marbling and the texture. 

“You need more meat. Otherwise you’re just skin and bones.” Yolona rumbled, chuckling heartily before taking a deep swig from a canteen she must have hidden under her chainmail. 

Slade took a long drink from his mug of - urgh, was that ale? “The meat’s not too bad actually. Boar, I think. Got the right flavour to it.”

“Here you go, love,” Vivian smiled, standing up and swapping plates with Helia, who whined a bit before seeing what was on it. It was still so  _ odd _ that despite her blindfold she could still tell what was in front of her. Resting on the plate was a decently balanced meal of meat, bread, and vegetables, every piece chopped into bite-sized chunks. 

Winter glared at her. She could have done that. If she’d thought of it. Stupid red-haired woman. Helia’d better not smile gratefully at her - 

The ecstatic angel squealed happily and jumped in her seat before twisting around and giving Vivian a hug. A  _ hug. _

Ok, that was worse. Winter seethed. 

Vivian stuck her tongue out at her playfully. 

_ Now it was war _ . “Helia, I see you don’t have any sausage on your plate. It’s very good, you have to try it.” She carved one up, pretending it was Viv’s stupid face. 

Aphoth giggled. “It’s funny cause you said sausage and Helia’s - ” She collapsed in giggles again. “She also hurt my snake. That’d be a euphemism if I was a guy. Don’t cripple Maverick’s snake, angelfluffy, he needs it.”

The table fell silent. 

“Aphy  _ what the fuck. _ ” Ash turned and gave her friend a horrified look before her shoulders started shaking and she devolved into a giggling pile of black leaning on her just-as-if-not-more drunk buddy.

“The dead ain’t the only thing you’ll be rising if you keep this up,” Maverick winked. “My ‘snake’ also happens to be quite interested.”

“Ok, I think we’ve heard quite enough about people’s snakes!” Winter hastily pushed the chunks of sausage - damnit, now she couldn’t even  _ think _ that word - onto Helia’s plate. “Isn’t this meal nice?” God, she was talking way too loudly - but it was an inappropriate dinner topic - 

“Aww, but I have a great snake~” Vivian purred, leaning in between her and Helia and getting uncomfortably close and  _ oh god was that what it felt like to have a lover breathing down your neck why is it so hot - _

“Hey, mine!” Helia mumbled, ineffectually pushing at Vivian.

“This is ludicrous.” Titian ripped another leg from the carcass of what seemed to have once been some sort of large animal. A pig? “But highly amusing. Please, do continue to lie about your sexual prowess.”

Vivian stood up and sashayed back to her stolen seat, pressing a hand to her chest as she gasped in mock-horror. “Lie? About sexual prowess? Whoever would do such a thing?!”

“You, clearly.”

“About my snake?” Vivian smirked, giving the psychotic faunus-fanatic a wink.

Titian nodded. “In part. Though I was also speaking to the boy. His snake is not rising anywhere. I could smell it if it were.”

Maverick choked on his food for a moment. “YOU CAN SMELL BONERS?!” he exclaimed in shock,  _ far  _ too loudly. 

“Yes. Bloodflow is bloodflow, no matter where it is. The witch, however, is quite - ”

“Hungry!” Aphoth said loudly. “I’m very hungry! I’m going to eat some more bread rolls. That’s what I’m going to do. And drink more bubbly.”

“Noooo, you’re hungry for-” Ash started, before devolving into more giggles and nearly falling off her seat.

“Just a sec, love,” Vivian wore a look of concentration as she started reaching for below her belt.

Winter stood, hand on her sabre. “ _ One more word of this conversation and I explode the table like I did that wall _ .”

“Bewm~” Ash quipped, keeping a straight face for the whole of two seconds before bursting into laughter and leaning on Maverick, who carefully nudged her in the other direction. 

How…  _ chivalrous.  _ She sat down slowly, and continued eating. “So, Helia. I passed out, so I didn’t hear how you passed the last stage of the Trials.”

“Ver whz ha-”

“Finish chewing, swallow the food, then talk.”

Helia didn’t grumble this time, doing as she was told. “There was a-”

“Found it!” Vivian cheered, holding something up in the air and Winter struggled to avoid looking. “I have no idea what he is but I found ‘im!” 

Aphoth perked up, sloshing her drink over herself. “Look it’s a baby snake! Who’s a scaled cutie!”

A sleepy hiss perked up from under Aphoth’s collar. That  _ thing _ that had attacked her poked it’s head out for a moment before ducking back into her dress. 

“I think he eats little pests. Flies and such.” Vivian mused, holding up a sliver of meat in front of the bright red and orange reptile. It coiled its tail around her wrist and rose up, holding it’s head in the air for a moment. 

Helia giggled.

It struck forward, lashing out at the meat and missing completely, before pulling back, lashing out in another direction, and continuing to look like it was having a seizure for several moments before giving up and slamming its head into her hand repeatedly. 

“Bloody muppet.” Vivian giggled, grabbing it by the neck and guiding its head towards the food. “Eat, Merlin!” 

“That’s a new take on trouser-snake.” Maverick muttered between chuckles. “You had me worried you were going to pull a-”

Winter glared and drew her sabre slightly. “ _ What _ did I say.”

Maverick tried to look innocent. He failed spectacularly. And his whistling skills were dreadful.

Winter brushed her hair aside and scooped up another forkful of potato. “So, Helia. You were going to say, before we were interrupted.”

“Oh, there was a door behind that guy and it wasn’t closed so I took a look.” Helia shrugged. “There were like… three hallways? The only one that was open led to the end of the trapped corridor.” 

Slade nodded. “Ironwood said that the corridor was pretty much impossible to get through without injury, and that the correct solution was to find a way around. Hence why Helia’s the only one who ‘really’ succeeded. But we all did well enough, I guess.” He frowned. “Wait, didn’t you leave before the traps started going off?”

Winter frowned too. The second time the faunus had pulled information from thin air without prior knowledge. Maybe - no, that was silly. 

“Kinda suspicious, isn’t it,  _ Mary? _ ” 

“Oh shut up.”

“‘Cause, I really gotta say, on that list of names, a  _ Winter _ showed up, but no  _ Mary. _ ” Maverick said almost offhandedly as he refilled his plate. “So, I have to ask, do you at least have a good reason?” 

“None that should concern you.”

Titian chuckled. “She’s a Schnee. That’s reason enough. They have plenty of enemies, and I doubt her father was pleased with her career choice.”

“I want to hear it from  _ her, _ not her hate-club’s president.” Maverick leant back in his seat, locking eyes with Winter and refusing to back down. “So let’s hear it, Ice Queen. Why lie to the people you’re going to spend the next  _ four years _ training, living, and eating with?”

Silence around the table as everyone looked to Winter or quietened down to hear her answer over Ash and Aphoth’s drunken giggling.

Winter sighed, swallowed. She couldn’t talk about her father, she couldn’t talk about her... distrust that they weren’t his spies. “I felt it prudent to hide my identity to avoid preferential treatment.”

The tension in the air became almost palpable. It felt like every set of eyes darting between her and that idiot loudmouth was driving another dagger into her back. Almost like everyone expected a fight to break out between the two at any moment.

Helia hiccuped. 

Maverick finally smiled. “Good enough. I’m honestly surprised you’re aiming for a ‘fair’ fight,” he mentioned, before everyone seemed to relax. “Needs work though. Helia’s blind and even she saw right through it.” 

Ash perked up a little. “She’s blink?” she asked, blinking in surprise repeatedly. “Blind? Blink? Blink-blind?” 

“Maybe? She can grab stuff though. Uh, smell, like our tall friend? Other faunus senses? I’m sorry if I’m being offensive.” Slade shrugged. 

“Uhhh…” Helia paused for a moment. It was pretty obvious that she was thinking up an excuse. “Uhhmm… I… don’t know?”

Vivian opened her mouth to say something before Helia grabbed a stray mug with both hands and started guzzling the contents. It spilled out and down her front almost immediately.

Wait, if that was ale - “Helia! Put down the alcohol!”

Helia’s reply came in the form of bubbles and more choking. 

-.-.-

An hour or so later, after everyone had eaten their fill and had been given a chance to let their dinner settle, Ironwood brought their attention to the podium again. 

“Apologies, everyone, but the quake did more damage to our facilities than we previously realized. The quarters - the dorms - for each Stream’s living complex have been structurally compromised. Thankfully we do have alternative options. TSOs have set up a number of camp beds at the other end of this hall, and, for the time being, you will sleep here, as will a number of the teachers. Please, do try to bear our snoring.”

A murmur of laughter from the crowd. 

Winter frowned. Maybe the alcohol was playing on her senses. Maybe he actually had said that and was as much the incompetent, bumbling, not-leader she thought he was. Making  _ jokes _ out of extreme structural damage while living under a  _ mountain _ ? That was - maybe it was a trick to improve morale. That would make sense. Commanders joked with the men, didn’t they? But still, inappropriate joking subject. 

She made a noise that was definitely not a hiccup. 

Helia did hiccup though, and was leaning against her side looking like she was trying not to hurl.

Ash and Aphoth were drunkenly smooshed - smoosh was a fun word, Winter should use it more often - up against each other. Maverick’s previous comments on their smooshing had rendered him a lot more quiety and far more tolerable. 

Vivian was still  _ far _ too chatty for her liking. And her pet… pet thing, that Helia had fawned over. Snakes. Fucking  _ snakes _ . 

Slade was just… wavering in his seat and smiling at nothing. Titian was sitting bolt upright in her chair - but was also snoring softly, though that noise was somewhat drowned out by Yolona’s own impressive snores. 

It was almost as though someone had replaced her with a Cruiser engine. No, those were quiet… Maybe a…. Vibrating gong? Vibrating gong. Winter giggled. That was a funny image. It also sounded  _ rude _ . Vibrating gong...

“Hey. Hey cutie.” Vivian was suddenly there next to them and trying to pull Helia away from her, cooing with meaningless nice wordies and -

“Mrrghh…” Helia sounded queasy. Like she’d eaten too much rich food too fast. 

Winter pulled her tighter to her and gave what she hoped was a warning glance at Vivian. Helia needed rest not - lewd shenanigans, or whatever Vivian had planned. Besides, Vivian smelled like alcohol. Or possibly Helia did. 

“Come on, loves, it’s time to get to bed.” Vivian smiled warmly, reaching up to ruffle Winter’s hair.

“Ind - hic - eed but we can make our own way there.” Indhiceed. What did that word mean again? “Also love’s a - non plurality noun. Also we aren’t love.” Winter poked herself to check. “Still a person. Yup - yes. Affirmative.”

“You obviously haven’t tried polyamory~” Vivian purred,  _ right in her ear. _ “We should try it sometime, yeah?” Though Winter wasn’t sure why the girl was so excited about plastic - that was what polyamory was, right? The purring was interesting though, tingly and warm. Winter wondered what it’d be like if Helia did it. 

Maverick looked intensely interested in this turn of events. He probably would have made some funny, witty remark if he had more than three brain cells. Or had spent less time in prison cells. Or… if he didn’t smell. 

A discarded black dress flew across the table and caught in Helia’s face, causing the adorable little ball of fuzzy feathered cutes to make an annoyed whining sound. Wait, where had that come from? Winter looked round and oh dear god she didn’t want to see that. That being a half-naked Aphoth grinding against Ash. Her skin was very pale though, almost luminous and the little noises and Winter was definitely going to stop looking now. Any second now. 

Helia’s confused flailingly certainly didn’t distract her. Nope. She was paying rapt attention to wait she was meant to be looking away - 

A polite cough from behind them. Ironwood, glancing into the middle distance, looked down cautiously at Helia. “Ms Helia. I was hoping we could have a moment to talk? Rest assured you’re not in any trouble.” He ducked another black lace garment and swiftly looked up at the ceiling. 

Winter could confirm that Ash wore very nice underclothings.

“Mrff!” Helia’s reply was muffled by the dress she’d yet to untangle herself from. Aww, she’d managed to wear it. She looked so adorable and cuddleable and her head was stuck in an arm hole. Silly Birdie.

Ironwood sighed, still looking at the ceiling. “Ms Helia?”

“Mrfnmiggle!”

“Stop talking gibberish, poppet.” Vivian giggled, pulling Helia’s head out and helping her put it on properly. 

“ _ Fine. _ I want Winter though.” Helia grumpled, before reaching for more ale. Nooo, bad Helia! No more ale!

“I’m afraid I need to talk to you alone. I can understand wanting to bring a teammate, but - this conversation will have to be private. I give you my word as a General, no harm will befall either of you while you’re talking to me. Is that acceptable?” 

Winter dragged her eyes away from the pasty-white pair to look at Helia. The much smaller girl seemed to glare up at the… embarrassed General? What could have gotten him that healthy flush on his cheeks. 

“Fine…” Helia grumpled, sagging.

“Hello, General Ironshaft! Taking the little one out for some,  _ ahem _ , private tutoring, are we?” Vivian smiled slyly as she clasped her hands behind her back and started wiggling innocently. She wasn’t innocent. She was trying to kidnap fuzzy! Helia! Not fuzzy. Though Helia was fuzzy. Did she need to brush her wings every morning to keep them from floofing? 

Winter imagined Helia with floofy wings and giggled. 

Ironwood was glaring a little at Viv, and thus couldn’t dodge another set of smaller clothings. He sighed, removing something skimpy from his face. “Please, could you two restrain yourselves, just for the mome -”

His voice cut off, but his lips kept moving. There was a small thump and an “ _ Eep! _ ” as the pair rolled onto the floor and out of view. As Winter strained her neck to peek, Helia clambered out of her grip and stood in front of the General with a sigh, her new dress dragging along the ground. 

“Ah, stand still,” Viv crouched down and rolled up the front of the dress before pinning it in place, leaving the rest of it dragging behind her but letting her walk. “There we go!” 

Winter could have thought of that. And applied it. She just hadn’t. Because she was full of food. 

Helia shuffled over and reached up to grab Ironwood’s hand, letting him lead the way. Vivian sat down in the vacated spot and leant on Winter, sniffling melodramatically. “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

Winter tried to lean away but she was yawning, or her mouth was opening or something. Her head was resting on the table. She was so tired, even if Viv was leaning on her and putting hands in odd places. 

The last thing she saw before sleep claimed her entirely was Helia looking back to wave. 


	11. Ragnarok

-.-.-

There was… noise. Heavy, crunchy noise. Crashing. Something louder, a whoop whoop whoop whoop. It hurt and stung at her head, like little swords poking into her ears. Something warm wrapped round her and - was that a hand between her legs? What was going on? What happened? Something warm splashing against her hand, her face. 

Winter opened her eyes slowly, wincing at the light. She’d - applied to Atlas Academy, passed the trials. The dinner. Getting drunk - damnit, that was why everything hurt. She squinted, shook her head, tried to focus. 

Another drop of warm onto her hand. Red. Her eyes opened wide, and she looked up and round for the first time, properly taking in what she was seeing. 

Red was disemboweled above her, hanging from one of the hall’s chandeliers, intestines suspending her like a long grey rope of - Winter was going to be sick. There was a horrible sliding noise as she slipped lower, more blood spilling from her. There was something - something pushing under her skin, eating its way out of her. 

The crashing - that was the doors. Someone had piled tables against them, but a heavy black paw had shoved through and was knocking them aside. The crunching - the room was chaos. Bodies. Living, fighting with bare hands, dazed and sleepy against the monsters that had broken in. 

It wasn’t enough. A tiny girl in a fluffy blue party dress was squashed by a Boarbatusk’s rolling charge in a horrifying mess of blood and bone, a huntsman fighting with a chairleg struck down by a swarm of tiny batlike Vespyr attaching themselves to his limbs, dragging him screaming into the air. 

Yolona was stirring to wakefulness. Vivian was still asleep. Ash and Aphoth were invisible under the table. She saw Maverick, one arm hanging limp, dashing from one side of the room to the other, trying to get another applicant away from an Ursa. Slade was with him, brandishing a steak knife - as she watched, he slit the Ursa’s throat. He was limping, blood streaming from a gash in his trousers. Titian was straining to hold a boarbatusk aloft, its teeth and tusks snapping at her face. 

And over it all, the high scream of the alarm. “ _Alert. Alert. Full Grimm Breach detected. Threat Level Twelve. Threat Level Twelve. Full Grimm Breach detected._ _Please head to mandatory evacuation while Omega Protocols are prepared._ ”

The seat shifted as Yolona got up, staggering to her feet. Was that…  _ laughter _ she could hear rising from her chest? “FINALLY!” she roared, swiftly ripping a leg off the table and brandishing it like a club as she ran  _ at _ the Grimm. 

Fucking  _ lunatic _ . The Vespyr inside Red’s corpse finally emerged in a spray of gore and dived at Winter, tripartite mouth open and howling, proboscis extended. Grabbing her sabre from her waist, she leapt to her feet, stabbing into the thing’s maw and up into its brain. Dead. “Where’s the army? What’s happening?” Her words were lost in the chaos. “Helia?”

The chaos seemed to quieten for a moment. As though a certain audio-control freak didn’t want her headache to be disturbed. Winter kicked the table, then braced, and properly shoved it away with her legs, exposing the fornicative duo. 

“Get the fuck up and get some clothes on!”

“Huhwha- OH SHIT WHAT?!” Ash shrieked, covering her astoundingly alabaster body with her hands as her head whipped around, searching for her garments. “How the hell-” her words were cut off by someone throwing her jacket and skirt into her face. Winter couldn’t be bothered sparing more than a glance but she was surprisingly quick at dressing under duress.

A roar and a deafening boom as the doors were shoved further apart, an Ursa Prime bristling with spines trying to shove its way through. A pair of Beowulves clambered over its back, charging into the hall, claws tearing at the ground - until Yolona met them with an uppercut from her tableleg, turning one’s jaw to powder. She grabbed the other one, lifted it over her head and roared, arms straining. 

A few seconds later, two vanishing halves of Beowulf hit the floor. 

“So, uh, what exactly happened here?” Ash asked, looking around, frantic and panicked. Her eyes were nearly bulging out of her skull and her chest was heaving much too quick for it to be healthy. “And can I borrow your jacket?” 

Winter sighed and ripped it off. “I have no idea, and here you g -” Another Vespyr dived at her and she dodged aside, not fast enough to stop its claws scraping across her arm. She winced, tried to gauge a throw with a fork from the table before giving up and simply trying to hold her sabre ready for its next pass. 

Ashlyn shrieked, and a wave of  _ force _ nearly threw Winter off her feet. The Vespyr’s guts splattered all over her face before they began dissolving. The  _ taste _ was nauseating. “Oh uh… okaythankyousorry!” she blathered, snatching the jacket and covering Aphoth. “WakeupAphypleasewakeup-”

The pale girl shifted and muttered something that sounded like, “Five more minutes mum.”

Titian landed beside them in a half crouch. “More Boarbatusks coming. My aura’s too low to take another one by myself.”

“HEY ROCKSTAR, CAN YOU TELL HOW LOUD IT IS IN HERE?!” Maverick yelled from across the hall. “MAKE FUCKING USE OF IT!” 

“WAKE. UP - what?” she seemed dazed. “Oh. Right…” Ashlyn screwed up her face in concentration. “COVER YOUR EARS!” 

Winter crouched, slapped her hands over her ears and braced. 

At first, it didn’t sound like anything had happened. And then she noticed the silence. Building, oppressively, like the air was being leeched from her ears - she couldn’t hear her heartbeat, her breath, anything. Ash was standing there, completely obscured by rippling air, every tiny piece of sound held against her - 

And then she released it. 

Winter didn’t black out, but she did fall over hard enough that she missed most of what it did. When she sat up, the Grimm in the room were dead, and the surviving applicants were limping towards the door, ready to hold it against the next wave. 

Except Yolona. 

“Where are you going?” someone asked -  _ Blue. _ Blue had the guts to confront her?

“Rearming myself.” Yolona grunted, pulling up her chainmail. Her arms had several heavy gashes that were bleeding badly. She had a new scar that looked like it was running through her right eye. 

“Snnrrr- I’M AWAKE!” Vivian yelped, jumping in her seat before yawning and rubbing at her eyes. “Oh… I missed the party. Bloody shame.” 

“Actually… having my guita - axe. Having my axe back would be helpful.”

“How is this happening?” Winter slumped onto a bench. “And - why?  Where’s the General?”  _ Where’s Helia? _

There was a slow turn of heads as everyone looked to someone they knew had been awake before them. When it finally got to Maverick, he just shrugged and pointed at Slade. “He woke  _ me  _ up.”

“I woke up to the alarm.” Slade sighed, rubbing at his shoulder. “There were some more soldier guys, trying to evacuate us - then the Vespyr swarm arrived through the air ducts. Rat fuckers. The Ursai and Boarbatusks showed up right after that. We’ve been fighting just to clear the hall ever since.”

Winter pinched her nose. It was - too much, her head still hurt and she had Red’s blood all over her, and there were so many  _ dead _ \- “We need to get our gear. If there is a full breach happening, we need to do our best to assist in the defence of Atlas.” She paused. “Where did we leave our gear?”

“Do you mean the city because- OH SHIT, THE CITY! MY SISTER LIVES THERE!” Ash wailed, her arms flailing about, accidentally smacking Aphoth more than once. Clearly she was still somewhat inebriated. 

“I left my swords back in the common room.” Vivian shrugged, getting to her feet and stretching. “I’m going to follow...  _ her. _ ” Her obnoxious words were accompanied by an infuriating point at Yolona and an exaggerated first step in her direction.

“Is no-one else taking this  _ seriously _ ?” Winter growled. “Students are dead, our lives are in danger and you’re  _ still making jokes _ .” She stormed to her feet. “Follow Yolona - yes, a sensible plan. Keep in formation for now, anyone with defensive semblances on the flanks to repel attack. Those with lower aura levels stay in the centre of the group. We ready?”

Silence, and some wide-eyed stares. 

“Are we  _ ready _ ?”

Maverick rolled his eyes and shrugged. “It’s a coping mechanism, Ice Queen,” he supplied offhandedly, taking a leisurely stroll to the doors. Winter frowned at the dunce, but… he had a point. 

Half the group that weren’t staring at her in wide-eyed terror were moving, and even then only half of  _ them _ were actually taking her orders into consideration. Like lambs to the slaughter. She pursed her lips, trying shove a few of them into position, before more thudding forced her to give up. “Fine, let’s just - shamble on. But quickly. Hurry, come on!”

That got the pace up to a jog. Not much of an improvement… but an improvement nonetheless. Maybe… five fewer deaths thanks to their newfound enthusiasm. She hoped. 

Aphoth was curled up against Ash, quietly sobbing. Then she stilled, looked up, eyes leaking blackness. The corpses of the other applicants rose with her, a veritable army of whispering dead, and shapes of Grimm rose with them. 

“They’ll hold the hall,” she said, her voice echoing. “They’ll hold the hall. Hold the hall. Hall. Hold.” She half collapsed again. Ash hooked the nearly comatose girl’s arm over her shoulders and helped keep her steady as they joined Winter’s formation.

Red’s reanimated corpse fell from the chandelier with a wet impact, smoke steaming from her. “ _ That was some good food… wait it hurts, wait it hurts, waking up hurts what’s happening, _ ” she -  _ it _ whispered. 

“H-hey, Red?” Blue walked up to her former… companion was being generous. Friend, maybe? If their enmity could be described as such. Either way, the corpse kept muttering to itself. 

“ _ Food is gone. Hurts. Bye mom. Love you. Sorry. Hurts. _ ” 

She was ignored. 

A shudder ran through the floor - and the roof - it was like the earthquake all over again. But it was… different. It wasn’t as strong. It wasn’t all-encompassing. It actually felt like it was getting strong -

Everyone was thrown from their feet as the wall burst, sending huge chunks of debris hurtling through the air. The inhuman - the - the sheer  _ wrongness _ of the wail that filled the air chilled Winter to the very depths of her heart and soul. 

_ Wyrm. _

There was no formation now. No need to shamble like lambs to slaughter for the slaughter had come to them. Winter couldn’t believe herself as she stood at the end of the hall, yelling at the last stragglers to hurry up as the main body of the Wyrm seemed to just stream past,  _ filling _ the area with noise and rumbling and roiling ground. 

There were more things coming in its wake, springing off its hide - Beowulves and Creeps and Gruffs. The latter’s pointed hooves rang on the stone floor, sparking as they braced their powerful legs to launch themselves into the air, down onto Aphoth’s shadow army that had been decimated by the Wyrm’s passing.  

The last straggler finally made it through.  _ Blue. _ Winter spared one final glance at the impending army and recoiled. The shadows could still use semblances, it seemed, because Red was turning the newfound arena into a bubbling pit of lava. 

It was time to leave.

She ran, the floor crumbling and cracking beneath her, stumbling. Where was Helia, where was Helia - her feet drummed the words as she ran, legs eating up the corridor til she caught up with the others. They were gearing up, some simply grabbing their weapons and running, others like Yolona taking the time to don it properly, despite the situation. 

Maverick was flitting about, helping people with straps and finding their gear. Ashlyn and Aphoth were finally wearing clothes, even if they both had a red flush on their cheeks. Titan was holding the door, sword ready, dagger extended from her gauntlet. Vivian had found her sword - swords? She seemed to have several of them now, two in her hands and two braced on her forearms. Slade was more geared up as well, and had wrapped a bandage around his leg. He was growling at Blue, trying to get her to hurry up with her sniper rifle. 

“Hey, Ice Queen, any idea what the mini-quake was?” Maverick asked, popping up next to her. He seemed to be using his semblance almost carelessly.

“Wyrm. Big Grimm, very big. They tunnel, create paths for the others, and… only show up in the worst of invasions.”

“I thought they were passive?” Blue squeaked, hastily jamming several fresh mags into her gun’s stock.

“They are, normally. Hence why they only show up for the biggest attacks. The fall of Menagerie’s second city, the Battle of Fallen Stars.” Winter swallowed hard. “It means… there might not be an Atlas after this.”

“Save what we can. Rebuild the rest.” Yolona growled, fitting on her helmet. Her voice seemed so much louder under the helmet. “No time for anything more.” 

“Then we need to get outside.” Slade’s voice was firm. “Get out there and try and get to the city. We’re worse than useless down here.”

“Every route is either going to be blocked by Grimm or debris.” Maverick shot back, handing Winter that same flare gun she hadn’t gotten a chance to use during that fight… Dust, it felt like an eternity ago. “We don’t exactly have the time or manpower to clear either of those issues.”

“Well what can we do?” Aphoth’s voice was still shaky, but growing firmer. “Trekking down the mountain is going to take too long and be too dangerous. If there are this many ground based Grimm, the air must be swarming with them, so flying’s out.”

“We could follow the Wyrms.” Winter half laughed, then thought. “We could follow the Wyrms. We could follow the Wyrms - they’ll be digging trenches, tunnels right to the city, we just have to follow in their wake. And deal with the Grimm following them.” She frowned. “No, there’d be too many…”

“Whoa, are you  _ insane?! _ ” Maverick yelled, almost recoiling from her.

Winter glared at him. “No.”

“Okay, just checking. But seriously, if we’re following the Wyrms, the  _ new _ ones have the Grimm following them. The  _ old _ ones will only have the last stragglers… though, they might actually be the biggest.” Maverick had the audacity to lean on her as he stroked his chin, deep in thought. She elbowed him off with a grimace. 

“I think a few large ones would be easier to handle than a horde that outnumbers us several hundred thousand to one.”

“Well…” Maverick looked a bit defeated, “I was gonna say depends on how much CC and AOE we have available but several hundred thousand seems a  _ teensy  _ bit out of our league.” 

“We’re… following the giant deathmonsters. Holy shit it’s the end of the fucking world.” Ash blinked, collapsing to her knees. “Does this mean I can play  _ the song _ ?”

“ _ No _ .” Aphoth’s voice was stern. “At least - not til we’re in the open.”

“I’m up for plan follow the giant deathmonsters!” Ash grinned, perking up. 

“Then we move.” 

-.-.-

It was a clear day, a rarity at this time of year. The view from the mountain was unimpeached by snow or cloud, all the way down to the city below. Atlas, city of ice and stone, of high walls and intricate architecture. 

Atlas, the city ablaze. Atlas, its largest monuments shattered. The sky athwart with Vespyrs, Nevermores and Gryphons, spiralling down towards it one after another. The western rampart wall was  _ gone _ , like it had never been, and a sea of black poured in from the wastes. 

“Oh bloody hell…” Vivian whispered, aghast, her face falling. 

“Damn… so much for being protectors of humanity.” Maverick said, surprisingly emotionless. “I wonder if the other kingdoms are going through the same.”

Ash collapsed to her knees with a choked sob. 

Aphoth wrapped an arm around her, but she was shaking too. “Mum,” she said quietly. 

“It’s not right. It’s not  _ right _ .” Slade’s teeth were clenched. “This should’ve been stopped.”

“It’s not going to be stopped by standing here.” Titan’s sword extended into a spear with a rasp of steel. “We have to get down there. Save who we can, before we die ourselves.”

“I think that’s a certainty at this point.” Winter sighed, closed her eyes. “Dying saving people sounds like a good way to go though. Let’s get moving!”

“Hmph. Why even bother? Look at it.” Yolona gestured to the burning city. “There’s nobody left to save. Going down there would be a waste.” 

She turned around and shouldered her shield.

“Better to survive now, and save others who aren’t living on false hope another day.” 

Winter turned, snarling, but Maverick beat her to the punch. “You’re just going to abandon them?!”

“Convince me their fate isn’t already sealed.” Yolona growled, standing her ground. “I want to help people, but I cannot do that by needlessly throwing my life away.”

Winter stormed over to her, boots slipping in the churned mud of the Wyrm’s wake. “Their fate isn’t sealed as long as they’re there to be saved! If we leave them it will be. If we save even one person then our deaths weren’t in vain.”

“What’s easier to handle; guilt, tainted with the hope of redemption, or a horde that outnumbers us several hundred thousand to one?” 

“Listen - ”

A sudden roar of engines, and from the sky it descended. A bullhead, smoking, scratched by claws, but intact. The door swung open, revealing General Ironwood in combat gear, pistol drawn. “Come on! We don’t have much time!”

Vivian readied her swords and snarled, her eyes- were they  _ glowing? _ \- flashing for a brief moment before she regained composure. “Not much time for  _ what? _ ” she shouted. “Do we even stand a chance?!”

“We can try - reinforcement Hunters from Vale are already en route and the fleet’s coming from its station at Yggdrasil! Come on, get on board, and we can evacuate who we can, mount a defence.” He fired his pistol six times, fast, and a Nevermore the size of the ship fell from the air where it had been sweeping down on them. “I’m not leaving my students behind, not if I can help it!”

“Man I hope there’s room for everyone in there.” Maverick sighed. “C’MON PEOPLE, WE’VE GOT CIVVIES TO SAVE!” 

The Bullhead darted aside to avoid more Nevermore feathers as Winter began to run, Maverick running alongside her. Titian had already darted forward with a grapple onto a nearby collapsed tree, Aphoth hauling Ash to her feet and half carrying her towards the vehicle. Ironwood stretched out his free hand, remaining balanced even as he fired blind at the circling Grimm, ready to pull them up -

Something huge smashed into the bullhead from above like a meteor, black and white and glimmering red. The vehicle was obliterated in an instant as they skidded to a halt. 

The monster unfurled itself slowly, red, curved, bat-like wings stretching from its forepaws to its waist, its tail curling up over its head, spikes quivering, dripping and ready to fire. It shook its mane as its three-layered jaw gently crunched through Ironwood’s right side, tearing him in half and leaving his body to fall free, tumbling down the snowy slope. 

The Manticore snickered, then it charged. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sudden, right? Don't worry, while we don't want to (and didn't want to) spoil the surprise, it'll be made clear what's going on in a few chapters


	12. Oblivion

-.-.-

There was a far too long moment of horrified silence, of realisation that not only was the city aflame but its main defender, a public figurehead, an honest to god hero despite his faults was dead. More, a million things running through her mind - seeing him address crowds, those speeches when she’d arrived - but one thing stood out above the others. He was dead. He was  _ dead _ . 

She almost missed the moment when she was knocked away from the Grimm’s charge by Titian, the Manticore spinning round with a snarl, tail whipping forward and launching a volley of spikes that slammed into Yolona’s shield. She landed face first in the snow, slid, hauled herself to her feet. 

Vivian was  _ there _ , running at the beast and a reverberating  _ shriek _ seemed to echo through her skull. She charged, jumped, and just as the Manticore opened its mouth to devour her, she disappeared in a wreath of fire. 

And that shriek turned into a  _ roar. _ It was inhuman, demonic, like the agonised wails of a thousand dying dragons. The impact shook the platform with the shockwave alone as Vivian - or the  _ thing _ she’d become -’s fist collided with it’s face, sending it rearing back before twisting and ripping out one of its jaws. 

But it didn’t end there. The jaw and stray chunks of meat were thrown away carelessly as it grabbed the Manticore’s wings and planted its talons within the beast’s stomach and tore it open, sending steaming entrails flying everywhere. The thing reared back, somehow still alive - then launched forward again, jaws snapping closed on her arm, claws ripping and tearing at the demon’s stomach, tail whipping back and forth launching spikes in every direction. 

Molten metal and magma skin bubbled and flared, the demon’s own wings flaring out as it’s cacophonous roars turned into thunderous shrieking. With it’s free arm it let go of the wing and began punching the Manticore’s head, crushing the other wing in its grip and nearly tearing it off. 

Winter watched in terror. What was - what was happening - she - 

“We have to go, now! There are more coming!” Slade was firing his pistols into the sky, emptying them into a diving flock of Vespyr. 

Winter shook her head. Further negative thought would bring the Grimm. Think of Weiss. Safe in the mansion’s panic room  _ even though it was never built to withstand an attack of this magnitude and she’d be so scared _ . Winter gritted her teeth. “We can’t leave Vivian to face a Manticore by itself - by herself.” She shook her head - it was hard to think of her as  _ her _ when she looked like that. “We need to try and do something!”

“Do  _ something _ ?!” Maverick laughed. Was - was he  _ delirious? _ “What the  _ fuck _ is  _ left  _ for us to try  _ do? _ The world is  _ ending. _ ” 

The platform shuddered as Vivian - or whatever she - it- was - tackled the Manticore to the ground and continued pummelling it. The sky lit up with the assorted fire of the remaining Hunters in training. Despite his reservations, even Maverick added to the fray, the constant crack of his pistol threatening to deafen them both.

Winter growled, slamming her sabre into the ground and throwing her arms wide. Water dust, glyphs - a pressure hose, keeping the manticore held down, knocking other incoming flyers aside. Titian took advantage instantly, her sword crackling with lightning and fire, spreading it through the water in arcs of searing yellow. 

The Manticore was weakening, the grievous wounds inflicted on it taking their toll. It screeched wildly, trying to get some purchase to dive in for another bite, barbed spikes still launching from it. A student tumbled past, one driven clean through their arm - Winter didn’t recognise them, but they didn’t stop shooting, didn’t stop fighting. 

The platform shuddered. The sirens from the academy and the city clashed. Another giant Wyrm burst out of the mountainside. Everyone was fighting - fighting the Grimm, fighting to keep themselves of their feet - and not everyone was winning. 

The klaxons of the Academy shifted tone. 

Something more urgent. She couldn’t hear the words, but they’d changed too, couldn’t hear them over the thing that Vivian had become’s screeching, over the constant slap of the Manticore’s tailspikes through the air. Another pinged off her aura - she set up glyphs to try and stop more, to try and prevent more injuries, but the alarm, what was it saying - 

“ _ \- meltdown imminent, please - _ ”

Great, sudden cracks like thunder battered them all as the platform started to break apart. Aphoth tumbled away with a shriek on a triangular sheet of metal, ghostly soldiers running after her, followed by Ash, shouting and sliding on a wave of sound after her in a wake of snow and concrete. Slade slid after them, Titian whirling and leaping into the forest. 

Winter wanted Helia. She wanted Weiss. She wanted to - to wake up from this horrible nightmare of a world. 

But she couldn’t have those things, so instead she planted glyphs under her feet and began to run. 

The plume of flame from the exploding base engulfed where she’d been a few seconds later. 

Everything was thrown into the as the mountain’s side ruptured. Not-Vivian and the tenacious Manticore were still fighting and clawing at each other as they tumbled down the slope, Not-Vivian’s magmite body steaming the snow with alarming rapidity. She spotted Yolona falling through the air like the ungraceful barbarian she was - before righting herself, putting her shield under her feet, and  _ surfing _ the avalanche. Winter stumbled for a moment, the mountain giving way beneath her, before she was able to right herself, keep moving, running up a collapsing tree and leaping forward. 

Then the Grimm arrived and things got complicated. 

An Ursa barrelled in from the side, rolling and flaming and roaring. She was able to sidestep it - but straight into a Beowulf’s swiping claws. She winced as she heard her scroll ding her aura loss, trying to stab it with her sabre… but they were already separated by the tide of snow and rock. 

An outcry of jubilant hollering brought her appalled attention to Maverick, who was joyously drop-kicking a Beowulf and using it as a buffer between himself and the snow. It was - effective, but the risk seemed far too great. Why would he risk his own life so much more in this situation?

A boarbatusk rolled past, righting itself for a moment before spinning up again and launching at her. She couldn’t evade it like this, she’d have to - 

Blue, swinging her sniper rifle over her head, punting it away like a ball. She tumbled down the slope and out of sight. 

The city was coming into view again. The center of the city had the older structures. The parks. Moving outward from that, almost like rings on a tree trunk, you could see the city age in rings and height.

Well, it used to be. 

Now it was all leveled, debris, or about to be smashed by the remains of the Academy falling down the mountain. 

She only had a moment to scan it, to see what buildings were still standing before a rolling ball of Beowulves launched itself at her from the side, snarling and howling even as the rocks stripped away their flesh. A repulsion glyph launched her into the air - where she was met by a descending flock of Vespyrs. One latched onto her arm and she hacked at it with her sabre as she fell, feeling her aura being drained away by its gnawing mouth. 

She landed poorly, rolling before she could start her glyphs again. The Vespyr’s clawed feet kicked at her side as she bashed it against the ground, not even bothering to run just sliding down the near vertical slope, the wall of debris and snow right behind her. A Gryphon dived past and she stabbed at it before Slade descended from the heavens, plunging a sword into its back then disappearing into the distance as the shrieking beast flew away. 

A thundering crash nearly sent her off-balance as Not-Vivian came tumbling past, seeming to ride on the slowly dispersing Manticore corpse as she grappled with several Gryphons, at least two of which were larger than she was. She was - she was heading right for that tangled mess, shit! 

Winter tried to redirect her slide away from them, but it was too late, they were on top of her, Not-Vivian’s boiling skin millimetres from her own. A Gryphon’s beak snapped at her face and she reared back - into a wild slash of one of the demon’s wings against her shoulder, burning her skin even through her aura. She cried out and lost control of her glyphs. 

Winter fell. 

The air had been rushing past her ears before but now it was a storm, a constant howl that deafened everything else. She tumbled as she fell, her view shifting, blurring, white and black and red, black and white and red and rushing up fast, fast - 

Somehow she lashed out with her sword, yanking herself to a halt in a Nevermore’s flesh. The beast shrieked and roared as she hung from its side, as it swooped down towards the city - she’d cut into its wing and that tower was coming up fast - 

-.-.-

He wasn’t religious. But even if he had been, he still wouldn’t have prayed. 

Because no deity could allow this. 

Slade had killed the Gryphon he’d been riding, but hadn’t managed to make it to the ground before it had dissipated. Instead, he stood on the roof of a suburban apartment complex - what was left of it anyway - looking at the streets below. Teeming with Grimm. Deathstalkers, Ursai, Beowulves, Creeps, Gruffs - 

He shut his eyes and looked away. 

Half the roof had simply fallen in. He jumped into an apartment, tried not to think about the bloodstains he saw on the walls, or the family photos. Instead he hopped over the ruined doorway, jogging down the corridor, trying to find a stairwell. 

This was fucked. This was all - fucked. 

He’d joined the academy to get away from the city. He was back here. There was poetry in that, he guessed. His teammates were probably dead. He hadn’t seen Maverick. Ash and Aphoth had been the first to fall down the mountain. Vivian was - whatever had happened to her, she’d been hurt. He’d seen her boiling blood melting the snow. The Berserker and Titian might have survived, he supposed. 

He vaulted the balcony, hit the ground in a roll. A longer, concrete corridor stretched ahead of him, a remnant of the period of construction of the building. The lights were failing, just a few holographic bulbs flickering and sputtering in and out of existence, casting the hallway in blue and black shadow. 

At the other end were two Beowulves. Small ones. They looked up at him, mouths stained red. Something small sat between them, whimpering on the ground. 

A child. 

Slade drew his pistols and fired.

The Grimm ran to meet him, howling and baying fury, his bullets sinking into their flesh. Finally one dropped, but the second reached him, rearing up on its hind legs to slash at his face. He leaned back, drew his swords, plunged them both into it. Kicked its body aside. 

More. Creeps and Beowulves. The child was gone, or dead. Had it ever been there? No matter. He plunged his swords into the ground, knelt, fired. There were enough targets that accuracy didn’t matter. A Creep lunged at him, whipping its tail round and he ducked, too slowly, the strike spinning him round. He wrapped one arm around its head and pumped shots into its jaw. 

A lunging bite almost caught him but he danced backwards. His swords were in the midst of them now, he’d have to fight to get them. Stupid, stupid. He lashed out with a fully extended kick, cracking one’s jaw. Fired another burst into a Beowulf’s eye socket, watching it crumple and smoke. The crippled Creep tried to lunge at him and he forced its shattered jaws open, thrusting his hand in and firing until it was gone, other pistol holding the horde at bay. 

He was almost out of ammo already. A claw swiped, knocked one pistol away from him, pushed his aura lower. A quick backhand knocked the slavering beast back - but another took its place, teeth mangling his gun even as he fired into its maw. He dropped it, adopted a boxer’s stance, swung with bonecrunching force that a Creep just dodged. 

A sudden set of hoof-clops behind him. Gruff - “Shit!” - he began to spin to one side. Not fast enough. Its horn clipped him in the side, sending him sprawling with an exclamation of pain. He used the wall to haul himself to his feet, grabbing one of his swords, thankful that the charge had pushed him closer to them. A turn and slash slit the throat of a Beowulf that had been injured by the Gruff’s heedless charge, and a lunge took out a Creep. This was more like it. 

Another Beowulf’s hind claws, kicking as it stood from the carnage the Gruff had left, reminded him how low his aura was. He slashed its tendons, then backed up as a second wave arrived, Gruff leading them with sharpened hooves clicking on the floor. 

Kick to the jaw, stab, turn, slice. He’d managed to grab his other sword and he used it, jumping off the wall in a downward cut that cleaved the Grimm in two. The hall was littered with decaying bodies. Stepping back, leaning away from the slicing claws, parrying - but another was attacking before he could take advantage. 

Not enough time. Not enough  _ time _ . 

His aura went down with a headbutt from a Creep. Suddenly he could feel the exhaustion in his limbs, the muscles crying out in agony, the vulnerability of his skin. A claw caught his hand, peeling skin and flesh away and he roared in agony, answering in kind. 

Not enough time. Not good enough. Should’ve learned. He shook his head, focussed, swords held close to his side, waiting, waiting -  _ now _ .  

He released his soul. 

His half-clones spread from his arms, some sacrificing themselves to block attacks, others lashing out with steel. He had no control over them, but they were, in a sense,  _ him _ . They’d do what he would do, what he might do, what he could have done. Three grabbed the Gruff’s horns as he himself planted a boot on its back, wrenching its neck round until it snapped. 

And as quickly as they’d come, his echoes faded. He fell to his knees, panting. 

Guns gone. One of his swords had snapped in half during the fight. He couldn’t have said when. Damn. He sheathed them both anyway, stood shakily. His aura would be down for a while. He wouldn’t be able to fight. 

He heard a cry for help. 

Fuck that. 

Slade set off at a run, hitting the door with his shoulder full tilt, emerging into the sudden sunlight. He had to shield his eyes for a moment, even as his attention darted around, looking for the source of the cry...

It became clearer as a little girl ran around the corner of a building, clutching at her bleeding side and sobbing loudly as a tall, spindly Beowulf chased behind her, it’s large feet slipping on rubble surprisingly often.

“...eeeeEEEYYOO!” a voice called out, before the Beowulf was hit by a clump of snow, ice, and a second beowulf. Maverick calmly hit the ground next to Slade, landing awkwardly with a thump. “Ouch.” 

The little girl ran to them, clinging to Slade’s leg as Maverick climbed to his feet.

Slade absently reached down, patted her hair. “Where the f - where the hell were you?”

“Who, me?” Maverick grinned. “Surfing a Beowulf down a mountain.”

“That’s - ” Slade paused. “Actually that works as an excuse. Seen any of the others? Anything?” He rubbed his shoulder.  Hitting that door had  _ hurt _ . 

“Vivian’s off in… I dunno, probably thataway…” Maverick shrugged, vaguely gesturing out to the eastern part of the city. “Yolona’s where I got the surfing idea and I highly doubt she’ll be taken out. You’re here… Rockstar and Necro- uhh, Aphoth,” he looked around suspiciously, “ _ Probably _ still alive?”

“So. What’s the plan.”

“Get the…” Maverick paused, frowning. “The hell?”

“What?” Slade looked round. “What is it?”

“That girl’s gone.” 

“She probably just ran off.” She was gone though. Slade frowned. “Scared.”

Maverick scoffed. “Right. Run away from two Hunters -” he rolled his eyes at the look Slade sent him - “into a city filled  _ beyond _ capacity with Grimm. There’s nothing right in that.”

“Terror makes you do some fucking dumb shit.”

“Amen to  _ that. _ ” Maverick sighed, stretching. “Right, new plan, regroup. How often can you use that shadow echo clone trick?”

“Every few minutes? Takes a bunch out of me. And I have to charge it up.” He rolled his neck. “Your teleport?”

“It’s about as easy as blinking. Seems easy enough to keep up- if you pace yourself. I have a soft limit on how fast I recover.” Maverick shrugged. “It’s like… the more I have in reserve the quicker the reservoir fills. Or… it used to be. Something’s off about it now,” he explained, digging around in one of his thigh holsters and pulling out two guns, handing them both to Slade. The ‘railroad spiker’ and the gauss pistol that seemed to be the kid’s pride and joy. “The Gauss is a single-shot. Don’t fire it yourself, only with your clones. Haven’t got much ammo left.” 

Slade frowned. Flexed his fingers. His semblance had felt… odd, when he’d used it. A hint of feedback from his echoes that shouldn’t have existed. Phantom pains. “Got it.” He paused. “What - what do you think happened to cause this?”

A roar from nearby, clearer than the general cacophony of the apocalypse. “I have a theory.” He picked up a smouldering rock and started writing on a clear patch of wall behind him.  _ => Headed East => _ “You  _ might _ want to cover your ears,” he advised, pulling his goggles down over his eyes before pulling out that flare gun he’d given Winter and firing it straight up in the air.

Slade ducked his head, wincing at the noise. Like nails scraping through stone, light like the sun burning from above. A crack, and the light began to fade. 

“WOW I FORGOT HOW LOUD THOSE THINGS ARE!” Maverick joyously yelled at him. There was still a trail of light in the air. Probably some sort of Dust function. “ANYWAYS, EVERYONE IN THE CITY SHOULD KNOW WHERE WE ARE - GRIMM INCLUDED!” 

“Why - ” Damnit he couldn’t even hear himself - “WHY DID YOU DO THAT THEN YOU GODDAMNED DUNCE!” Slade drew his swords - sword and a half now, he guessed. He’d tucked the guns into his belt, he wasn’t confident enough to use them yet. 

“WELL UHH… YOU KNOW, THE OTHERS WILL KNOW WHERE TO FIND US!” Maverick grinned. Moron. He took the smouldering rock and started writing on the ground.  _ EAST. _ “NOW LET’S GET OUT OF HERE!” 

-.-.-


	13. Echoes

-.-.-

There was sound and brightness, and her mouth tasted like dust and ash. Her throat was dry, scorched like earthen clay. She blinked, trying to shake off the last of the drowsiness of unconsciousness, letting her aura flow over her, speed her back towards something approaching wakefulness. 

Winter was lying on a simple cobble courtyard, something that might once have been part of the ancient towns surrounding Atlas before the capital’s expansion. The remnants of the tower that the Nervermore had flown her into lay around it. She’d survived, then. Stone, arched, pale grey and sandy beige. The air was thick with dust, dust rendered into glimmering fog by morning light and the terrible screeching of the city’s dying sirens. 

Her hand was still wrapped round her sabre and she used it to stand, hobbling as fast as she could. More Grimm, she - she needed not to draw their attention. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. She winced, feeling the bruised muscles in her leg. And the faint remnants of pain in her sternum from Yolona’s kick had flared up again. 

Her aura had definitely fallen at some point, then had time to rebuild itself. How long had she been out? She wished - she wished she knew - 

She could hear something, quieter than the screeching, but still loud. Low, rhythmical. 

Sobbing. 

A moment of terror as slabs of rubble started to shift slightly, achy, falling, like a house settling. 

“Anybody? P-please…” She could barely make out the words over the din of a falling metropolis. 

Just as she thought she could control her beating heart, a  _ very _ clear growl sounded from somewhere just above her. Something, a dark shadow in the shining glittering brightness of the rubble. Sitting, snuffling. Waiting. 

She crept closer, cautiously. To the sobbing, to the waiting beast. 

“H-help me…” a cough. A wet cough. “ _ Fuck. _ ” 

Synapses started firing in her brain. Blood. The smell of iron in the air.

Pebbles falling as several stomping steps crunched above her. Careful. Think happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Happy -

It growled, snapped its jaws shut with the terrifying grinding clack of sharp teeth on sharp teeth. The sobbing intensified. 

“One… one last kill…” It was clear it was a girl now, as Winter edged closer, slipping into the ruins of the building the voice was coming from. There was rubble everywhere. A gaping hole in the wall let the morning sunlight in, a beam of illuminated dust falling on the floor to show... the shifting, blood-stained barrel of a sniper rifle.

Winter froze. For one blank horrible moment the scale of the death struck her -  _ a million deaths is a statistic one is a tragedy you knew this girl to know she dies makes you sad it’s understandable and now you magnify that by a million and now you understand that a million isn’t a statistic  _ \- and she couldn’t do anything but look at Blue’s sniper rifle sitting there in the dust and rocks. 

It twitched. The small taps of metal on rocks set Winter’s nerves on edge. The Grimm was close - too close for comfort - and the noise -

“ _ Fffff… _ ” Blue sighed. Out of reach. Winter could - oh god - she was - 

She didn’t throw up because that would attract more attention - 

_ Trapped. _

A half-hearted howl from the Grimm - it must be a Beowulf - before it started wandering around the building. Winter wouldn’t admit it out loud but having an extra layer or three of concrete between it and her right now was a reassurance she desperately needed.

Blue began sobbing again, weakly hitting the ground as her heaving breaths seemed to bubble. Fluid was building up in her lungs. Which, given their position in relation to the rubble, was - 

Winter shut her eyes and didn’t think about it. If she didn’t think about it it wasn’t happening. She couldn’t hear her dying she couldn’t stand here and do nothing. 

She stood, quickly, half running in a crouch over to the fallen girl as quickly as she could. 

“Wh -” Blue looked up at her in dulled surprise, coughing again. And again. She didn’t seem to stop, drooling and spitting blood with every movement. Her Aura was probably the only thing keeping her alive, if at all. 

Her skin was pale. It wasn’t like the comforting white complexion of Weiss’s skin or clean sheets. It was more of a sickly grey, tinged with blue and black. Patches of skin missing, her clothes shredded. 

She looked like death. 

Winter tried to shush her. Whispered, “Hey, please, be quiet, I’m here.” She glanced around. The Beowulf was snarling now, the hurried pattering of its paws echoing off the stone cage the girls found themselves trapped in.  

Blue shuddered, looking up at Winter with flat, hopeful eyes. “D-d-” she coughed again, her blood beginning to form an alarmingly large pool under her, “Don’t wanna… die alone…” 

“No, I’m here, see? I’m here.” She did her best to smile reassuringly. 

Which of course was the moment the Beowulf leapt out from behind her and knocked her sabre away and out the window, sending her sprawling. 

Blue let out a wet, muffled shriek. In the hallowing light stood the beast of darkness. Up close, in no condition to fight back, Winter finally understood the  _ why _ and  _ how _ the general population were so terrified of the Grimm. Even hunched over, its limbs long and gangly, it still looked strong enough to tear steel asunder and eviscerate the flesh of anyone who got too close. Its fur matted, its breath stinking, eyes gleaming from its skullplate. 

And then there was it’s behaviour. It wasn’t simply  _ killing  _ her. It was  _ enjoying this. _ Standing over her, confident enough in its victory that it let her get her breath back and try to crawl away. The moment she moved, it took a single step forward, crushing Blue’s arm under it. 

Winter started hyperventilating. This was how she was going to die. To a lowly  _ Beowulf. _

It got down on all fours, its back feet shifting up and putting nearly all of it’s weight on its toes, grinding them against Blue’s tattered flesh. It knew.

It knew what it was doing and it was prolonging it.

_ Negativity they feed on negativity no better way to do it than to torture - _

The Beowulf couldn’t have been more than a few years old. And yet Grimm hundreds of years old existed. Winter shuddered to think what  _ they _ would do in it’s place.

She had thought them to be mindless beasts.

Oh how wrong she was.

-.-.-

The streets were teeming with Grimm. Normally this would be considered a  _ very bad thing _ . But in light of the  _ tsunami  _ of Grimm she’d seen pouring into the city mere… hours, minutes, before? It was odd. They should have run straight through the place. Not lingered. 

The fact they did suggested survivors, but she couldn’t smell any. Her claws twitched in her fingers, and she winced - that last fall had cracked one of them. Still, to eliminate the darkness, that was her purpose, yes? To drive it back to the chasm. Burn it down. 

No matter the cost.

Titian Cinerous sighed. Her sword, Rasaat, was heavy in her grasp, its dust chambers quiescent and expended, a relic of the time it had been developed. But… there were Grimm to kill, nature’s fury or no. 

_ Always Grimm to kill, a black tide pouring from a hole in the earth, more and more more and more sweeping over them onward like water trickling through cobblestones -  _

The alleyways weren’t perfect cover. But they were better than hopping over the rooftops with all the Nevermores, Gryphons, and Vespyrs in the air. The narrow cramped streets of suburbia, no more messy than normal. Which was - a comfort, she supposed. Knowing that these hidden abandoned places would remain such even in the face of armageddon. 

A series of gunshots and a yelp of pain from nearby - followed by the rumbling roar of the horde. A soldier or a police officer? She ran towards the noise, keeping her sword trailing along the ground. Rasaat was hungry for Grimmstuff. Never sated. 

A family. A cop. One gun to protect five humans from endless Grimm. A mother, her teenage daughter, and young twins - a boy and a girl. And all the police officer had was his tiny, standard issue pistol. His aim wasn’t even that good. 

Irritating, considering his target was one of several Ursa. Aside from a Goliath, or the larger Gryphons or Manticores, they had the most bodymass to hit. One was even a Prime, spikes quivering as it paced round them. The Grimm weren’t even paying attention to the shots. 

The woman was crying, softly, but still trying to comfort her family. Stroking her children’s hair. Humming lullabies. 

It was touching. But it was futile. Comfort had its place, and here wasn’t it. She blinked, slowly. The Ursai were too spread out for her to take them on effectively - if she wanted to kill them, like she’d planned, like she’d herded them to do, she’d need them to be clumped up, enough that each swing cut through several of the beasts at once. 

Hopefully, when they finally finished playing with the humans, that moment would come. 

The lead Ursa, the Prime, lumbered forward, getting shot in the face twice before growling and swiping, sending the cop flying into a wall. His pained outcries startled the children. The other Ursai waited, almost as though waiting for permission. Like a pack. 

Damnit. They still weren’t grouped. 

Letting them die, the humans, was - unfortunate. They were innocent. They were - it was morally wrong of her to do this. To let them die so she could kill their killers. She was reminded of Yolona’s words atop the mountain. But this wasn’t their choice. It was hers. 

But it was necessary to kill the Grimm. With her Aura as low as it already was she couldn’t be  _ sure _ she’d be able to take out all the Ursai, especially the Prime. It was the only way. 

_ And did Amon Schwartz think the same thing when he vivisected the Faunus? And did Orion Schnee think the same thing when he lowered his workers’ wages and had them shot when they attempted a strike? _

A young voice made her pause. “HEY MEANIES!” she shouted,  _ roller-blading around them. _ Her hair was bright orange and she was waving glow-stick chains around as though she could help. An amateur huntress? The moron’s tail waved - 

Tail. She was a Faunus. 

And she was barely tall enough to reach Titian’s waist. Either she was fearless or foolhardy - no, she was definitely foolhardy. Dancing at the Grimm in a stupid manner did little to get their attention. They were attracted to negativity, not - 

One of the twins watched her and laughed. The Ursai stood puzzled for a moment. Maybe - maybe Titian didn’t have to leave them, to use them as bait, even the foolish would-be-huntress. Maybe she didn’t have to watch at least some of them die. 

The brightly coloured girl ducked from side to side, only smiling wider when she spotted Titian and locked eyes with her. She beckoned, still dancing. She was so young, so innocent - had Titian ever understood the world that little, what it was like? 

A sudden screech tore through the air, a massive Nevermore slamming into the ground and picking the little girl up in its claws - she squealed and screamed and clutched at the massive talon going through her stomach, looking to Titian for help, for reassurance… and finding none. 

She couldn’t engage. She couldn’t attack. The positioning was all wrong she - 

The girl’s eyes widened and her face fell. Her hand reached out. 

Then the Nevermore took off, still holding her in its claws. 

Things were almost simple after that. The Ursai attacked the family. Titian killed the Ursai. The mother was killed by the Prime’s charge, impaled on its spines. The teenage daughter was alive, though not for long given her gut wound and pained screaming. The twins were paste. 

Titian had won. Hadn’t she? 

In the same way Schwartz had won.

_ Sacrifices… must be made… in the name of progress. _

She felt sick to her stomach. Rasaat was far too heavy in her hands. Slowly, she walked away down the bloodsoaked streets. Humans to hunt Grimm. Faunus in the name of science or preservation of culture. Was there any difference in those deaths, in the end?

Her feet felt warm, her boots standing in the hissing liquid - wait. Titian stepped to one side, out of the puddle of boiling, magma-like blood, twitching her burnt feet, examining her boots for damage. The soles had been half burnt off - she’d gotten distracted, damnit - 

“Ffffuck offff…” a heavily accented voice moaned, slurred slightly. It came from a loose pile of rocks and furniture, from a house that looked as though a meteor had hit it. 

She knew that voice, the smell. That redheaded girl from earlier, who had become a... thing. Her name, what was it… “Vivian?” She approached the rubble cautiously. 

“Oh heyyy…” Vivian lifted her head a bit, blinking groggily. “You didn’t happen to catch the plate on that Gryphon, did you?” 

“I’m reasonably confident Gryphons don’t register with any vehicular board.”

“Ah, pity. Hit like a truck.”

She was clearly delirious. Likely due to her arm being missing from the elbow down. Titian crouched down beside her - the girl’s aura was keeping her blood in, barely. She hadn’t even tied a tourniquet, a problem Titian set to fixing. 

“OW.” Vivian stated, loudly, right next to Titian’s sensitive ears. Maybe that was a bit too tight. No such thing, though - and it wasn’t like circulation to the last two inches of the girl’s arm was that important. “Heh… bet I look like a muppet right now…” 

Definitely delirious. “I have no idea what that is so I’m just going to say that you do.”

Vivian giggled. “Of course, poppet~” she sang, breaking down into laughter. “Hey… where’d my arm go?” she asked, rubbing her face with the torn, bloody stump in confusion as she looked around for it.

“The dog ate it. Along with your homework.” Titian tried to scoop the girl up. “We’d best get moving.”

“H-hey, nooo…” she whined, reaching back at her pile of rubble with her free hand. “My- my swords. And- and stuff… have to fight the- hic- Grimm!”

Titian sighed, kicking through the rubble, grabbing her weapon, then moving on. 

“Ahh, Blasphemies…” Vivian cuddled her sword as Titian carried her. This wasn’t ideal. If a Grimm came upon them Titian might not have the time to react… but she wasn’t sure Vivian could even walk. Damn. She - 

She growled and hefted Vivian closer. “Stay quiet.”

“Mmmkay.” Vivian nuzzled against her neck, relaxing somehow. 

Titian sighed, and walked deeper into the ruined, dying city. 

-.-.-

The Beowulf charged in one crystal clear moment, teeth bared, claws scraping on the ground. Winter rolled to one side, flopping and falling she was about to die, she was about to  _ die _ \- 

It skidded past, turning to look at her, scratched one hand along the floor. More games. Winter crawled to her feet, trying to tune out Blue’s whimpers, trying to look for anything she could use to fight back. Wait, her glyphs, maybe if she - 

The Grimm darted at her again teeth snapping at her face. She stumbled back, feet tripping over Blue’s sniper - Blue’s sniper. She hauled it into her hands, still crawling backwards, it was so heavy and long, a vast black thing that - it seemed almost out of place in Blue’s hands - she couldn’t find the trigger or aim properly, the Beowulf was starting forward again, realising she was armed, a heedless charge smashing rubble aside - 

Winter fired. She felt the impact of the recoil on her shoulder, a pulse of pain lashing through her sternum, the flash and bright light. 

The crack of the bullet and the whine of the Beowulf as it fell back, bullet in its shoulder. It was already turning, trying to get to the easier prey - Winter tried to aim and fire again. The bullet pinged off the stonework. 

Blue screamed, a horrible gurgling noise as the Beowulf ripped into her flesh. Winter was standing, she didn’t know when, running up, swinging the rifle like a club, knocking the Grimm away, but there was already more red, clinging to its teeth and claws, that mouth looming up again - until she planted the barrel of the gun in it and fired. 

She collapsed, exhausted, on the floor. 

Splash. Blue’s lifeblood was staining the ground. It wasn’t just dark anymore. The hole in her back and side was leaking bright bright red. Oxygenated. Winter could see the light in her eyes and the strength in her limbs weakening with every passing second. But her look of sad hope, her look of  _ comfort _ , remained.

Winter leaned towards her - 

A rumble. A horrible blinding light and a screech from outside. But the rumble drew her attention most of all, the stone shaking around them, dust falling. A clang and crash as half the wall tumbled outward above them. 

That missed shot. The building was coming down. 

And that light and noise - whatever it was, the Grimm were coming for it. She could hear them, the ground shaking with the stamp of their feet, their paws, their hooves. Hear them baying for blood. 

Blue was covered in dust. She was almost turned white with it. Her hand was still outstretched to Winter. “Don’- don’ go... Please.” The words were almost unintelligible under the blood and gasps. 

A rock tumbled from what was left of the ceiling, landing right beside Winter. 

The whole building shuddered. Slabs of wall and chunks of ceiling fell. Blue gurgled and started scrabbling weakly, her face contorting into terror as the concrete she was trapped under began to move, grinding up was was left of her torso. “Hgh- heghlp!” she choked, her words coming out as nothing more than red and pink froth. 

Winter couldn’t - she - 

She looked up at the building again, then back down at Blue. The Grimm were closer. She could hear them. But Blue was there and dying and she had to help her, she had to do something. 

Her heart was hammering in her chest, drowning out any and all noise. Her breathing quickened, her chest feeling tighter and tighter as she inhaled more dust. She couldn’t think couldn’t feel -

The sunlight began to flicker. The sound of heavy wings beating filled the air. Cracks were sporadically racing each other up what remained of the walls. 

Winter took a step towards freedom. Hesitated. The pained gurgling - she took another step, hesitated. If she stayed she was trapped if she left she -

One glance at Blue. 

At what was left of Blue. 

The look of terror, of betrayal. She - she’d trusted Winter. She didn’t want to die alone Winter needed to be there for - 

Winter shut her eyes and ran. She leapt. She slid out off the edge and onto another and then she fell of that one too. She kept her eyes shut, curled herself into a ball. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. 

The building collapsed behind her. Burying her sin. 

Her sabre was in the street outside. She picked it up slowly, holding it and the sniper rifle to her chest. 

Burying her failure.

Yolona’s words floated back to her as if in a dream.  _ “Better to survive now, and save others who aren’t living on false hope another day.”  _

Winter closed her eyes, and wondered if she’d made the right choice. 

-.-.-


	14. Smoke and Mirrors

-.-.-

Ash was struggling to keep herself together. Everything was on fire, everything was dead, everything was dying, Aphoth was starting to go batshit crazy, the only things still alive were kinda dying or already dead and - 

She slapped herself a few times, blinking lots. “C’mon, you can do this!” she yelled at herself. It’s not like anybody could hear her if she just blocked it a bit. “THE WORLD IS ENDING STOP BEING SUCH A FUCKING BITCH ABOUT IT!” she shrieked. “Okay. I can do this. Just gotta - gotta keep fighting.” 

Talking to herself was the first sign of insanity, she’d read somewhere. Talking to herself and getting an answer was  _ definitely _ a sign of insanity. 

But hey, the  _ city  _ was  _ fucking burning _ and her sisters were probably dead and her family gone but HEY THERE’S GRIMM TO SLAY RIGHT? THIS IS WHAT SHE’D ALWAYS WANTED, A CHANCE TO LET LOOSE and oh, who was she even trying to fool. 

“Hey, Aphy, do you even know where we are?” she asked, feeling tired beyond belief. And probably hungover.

“ _ ThEReaReasoSsOMaNYMarKETgarDENSQuaRESaNdHiLLs _ .”

“Aphy you are a  _ wonderful _ , amazing, and truly good friend who’s pretty great in bed but will you  _ please _ stop yelling gibberish at me?” Ash whined, pulling her stumbling friend/girlfriend/whatever into a tight hug. 

Aphoth whined, closing her eyes. The darkness that had been leaking from them slowed. “T-trying. Hurts. So many hurti _ nG _ .”

“Think about drumming.” Ash rubbed her back. “The constant beats. Nice, soft, soothing, consistent drumming.”

There were corpses shambling around  _ everywhere. _ They were all whispering. Some were yelling. The streets around here were actually  _ clear _ of Grimm. It was amazing what a shuffling crowd with no sense of self-preservation could achieve through violence. The streets were black with leaking darkness, the soldiers marching in time to the beat Aphoth was drumming on her leg. 

She’d started with waltz time, which is what she normally used when things got too much. Now even that wasn’t enough and she was doing some sort of time signature Ash didn’t even recognise, a rippling shifting thing. Nine eight, maybe? No, she was switching every other bar. It was chaos. 

Like the city. 

_ Millions _ had lived here. They were near the shore, on the east side. The high-rises started turning into skyscrapers. A couple of Sky-Cruiser docks were still in functional condition. Or, that was what Ash could see when she looked up and actually tried to focus. The noises were starting to overwhelm her, too. 

She gently lead Aphy into a store, probably an ice-cream shop by the looks of it, and sat her down on the couch before hopping over the bar and pouring a slushy drink thingy for her. She liked blackberry, right? Ash liked orange. Orange was good. 

Aphoth slurped at the drink slowly. Her teeth staining black and purple. She was crying now. “There are so many. There are so many. Oh god. Oh god.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Just focus on the drink and - and - let them fight.” 

Ash was worried. Aphy had  _ never _ taken control of this many before. She’d also never had this kind of feedback from them before either. She was shivering like she was on a bad trip, her veins stark against her skin. Some of the blood vessels in her eyes had popped earlier and Ash had almost screamed. 

“Macro. Not micro,” she advised. “Yummmy smooothieee…” She even took a long slurp of her own and ow ow ow head hurty! “Hurty… icey… thingy.”

Apthoth was rubbing her own head too. “ _ CoLd _ .”

“Hey… where do you think the others are? Went. Mrgh.” Ash flopped her free hand about, before leaning in to wrap it around Aphy’s shaking shoulders. “Any idea where?” She was being awfully nonchalant about this. Just taking the deaths of everyone she knew and loved in her stride and oh god they were all gone how was she supposed to -

Happy thoughts. Think of Aphy. Thing of what little she remembered of last night with Aphy. 

She was fairly certain alcohol had gotten involved. She didn’t usually have blank spots like that after a binge night. What little she could remember was embarrassing, but good. Very good, in some spots. Downright scandalous. 

OH.

FUCK.

She’d  _ muted _ the  _ General _ . 

“OhgodwhyamIsuchanidiot….” she moaned, burying her face in Aphy’s neck. It was fluffy. Raiding the clothing store had been so worth it. 

Aphoth turned weakly to wrap an arm around her. “Not an idiot.  _ YoU dIDn’T feEL The cLaWs _ .” She was crying again. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she’d never seen her get this bad, ever. It was terrifying. 

“Aphy?” She choked back a sob. “Please stay with me Aphy you know I can’t - can’t - fuck please don’t go…” 

“Hurts,” Aphy whimpered. “Hurts so much. Can feel all their hurtings. Didn’t know I could hurt this much.”

“‘S not s’posed to hurt.” Ash frowned, blinking heavily. Maybe she wasn’t hung over. Maybe she was just still dunk. Drunk. Funky. “Think - think ‘bout me. Think ‘bout you. Don’ think ‘bout them.” 

Orrrrrr she’d accidentally put the wrong stuff in her smoothie?

“F _ eE _ ls w _ R _ ong.” Aphy was shaking her head. “Webs and  _ wEbS _ . Details like spidery little chatter things.” 

“Think ‘bout the forest. Not the trees.” Ash blurted, closing her eyes and leaning on Aphy just a little bit more… her head felt so heavy… 

A crash and a thud shook her awake and she screamed. There was a fuckhuge sword embedded in the floor and a shield smashed into a wall and a giant suit of armour impaled in the… things. Like the shelves and stuff. And she was still screaming. Okay, time to stop screaming.

The armour growled and picked itself up, rolling its shoulders before grabbing the shield, the hilt of the fuckhuge sword, and simply charging out the way it came in with heavy, thundering steps. 

It was all over in a matter of seconds.

Aphoth was still sitting and rocking back and forth at the counter. She was muttering to herself. “AshwakeupAshwakeupAshwakeupAshwakeup -”

“I… am awake?” Ash blinked, adrenaline rushing through her system. “I mean that… happened.” She gestured at the hole the armour had left. And the giant streak gauged out of the floor. And the chunk of the wall that was missing. “Aphy are you okay?” 

“More ok? Maybe? I fell asleep too, barely even noticed it, and my semblance stopped working. Which is why there’s any fighting going on out there at all. No-one left to attract the Grimm though.” Aphoth shook her head. “Still hurts a bit though. Can still feel them. Sort of.”

“Heyyy, you’re back!” Ash grinned widely, throwing out her arms and wrapping Aphy up in a really big cuddly hug and trying to smooch her. “An’, I don’t really understand anything you just said but it’s nice to have you back.” 

They were, at best, only passingly aware of the fight going on outside the store between the giant armour and the Grimm thing. 

Her little necromancer buddy wriggled a bit in her grasp and accepted smoochings only on the cheek. “Ash, we need to get out there. Try and save people. We’ve wasted enough time asleep.”

“But I’m wide awake!” Ash pouted, pointedly ignoring the things shaking themselves off the shelves with each jarring impact. 

“We need to be more awake, we need - we need coffee.” Aphoth clutched her head. “We need lotsa coffee.”

Ash looked outside. “There’s… coffee of doom across the -”

It was promptly crushed by the armour wrestling a Manticore to the ground. Punch, punch, punch.

She looked the other way. “Uhh… I know a place across the road from a cute little Dust shop?”

-.-.-

“Thanks… for looking after me…” Vivian mumbled, almost sleepily. Titian couldn’t tell if she was talking to her or the sword. Swords? Modern weapons were so irritatingly over the top. 

“You’re a teammate.”

“Even after seeing… that...  _ thing? _ ” 

Titian frowned. “Semblances are odd. I would - question how it works, though.”

“We all have our demons inside.” Vivian gave her a dazed half-smirk. “Sometimes I let mine out to playyyy.”

Titian snorted, and looked round at the ruined streets, up and beyond to the smoking wreckage of the mountain. “Did it have fun?”

The girl in red shuddered, barely holding herself up and clutching her sword tightly in her hand as she leaned on Titian. “That’s the scary part. It did.”

The smouldering ruins of a cafe belched smoke reeking of bitter wood ash and - meat. There’d been people inside. And over the top of it was draped the thick smell of molten metal, with a sharper tang to it, like cloves. Like how the red girl had smelled when she was… not herself. 

“Oh hey, that’s mine!” Vivian grinned excitedly, waving her arm and swinging her sword in gesture at it. It being the huge smoking wing that Titian now noticed was draped over the cafe. She’d initially mistaken it for part of the roof, but now she could see the molten blood dripping from it, fuelling the flames. 

“How’d it get cut off?”

“Bloody Wyrm bit it.” Vivian grumbled. “The bugger took my arm, too!” she exclaimed, waving her stump. Or more accurately, rubbing Titian with it. Perhaps she was capable of standing on her own now. Titian carefully began to disengage herself - and Vivian started collapsing. No, closer watch was required for now. 

“Your emotions seem very stable.” Titian paused. “That was not criticism. It’s vital in this scenario.”

“They are?” Vivian seemed rather surprised by this revelation, looking down at herself. “I thought the world was ending.”

“I meant - ” Titian considered how to put it. “While you may think that, you are not allowing it to influence you to draw the Grimm to you unnecessarily.” She closed her eyes, spoke quieter. “And the world will not end. No extinction is ever complete. There’s always something that survives.”

“Heyy…” Vivian stumbled, the dazed look returning to her features. “Are you in the White Fang? You seem like the kinda gal who’d be in the White Fang.” 

Titian shot her a look. “They know nothing of what’s necessary for Faunus. Prattling on about peaceful change and slow progress while thousands die, only taking necessary action against one goddamn company!” She did her best to quash her anger. 

“Soo… yes?” Vivian asked cluelessly. Either she was every bit the ditz she acted, or her mental faculties had yet to catch up with her train of thought.

“Once, yes. Their… toothlessness drove me away though. A ‘White Fang’ indeed.” She looked at the streets around them, and a memory flew back to her. “Come. There’s a safe place near here.”

“A White Fang is a fang unstained by blood.” Vivian said innocently, as though it were meaningful. “A Red Fang is one stained by blood. A Pink Fang is from someone who doesn’t brush.”

“And that makes far more sense than the reason for our name. No fang remains unstained. It’s not in its nature. Not in ours. The Faunus need a place to grow, to discover themselves  _ separately _ from humanity, which will never happen while we cling to their society. Your society.” She’d forgotten who she was talking to for a second. 

“Then what happened with Menagerie?” Vivian seemed rather confused. Her state seemed quite drunken, though lacking any whiff of alcohol. Blood loss. Damnit. 

“It was a state imposed on us by humanity, not true separation. Not a society crafted by our own hands. Like wolves in captivity.”

“Still… could have been a chance. A whole island to yourselves.” Vivian smiled dreamily. “Like a tropical resort, only… fluffy.” She obviously had no idea what she was talking about.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Down - this alley, yes. There was the graffiti. Encoded, of course. Well, relatively encoded. Washing still flapping in the breeze overhead. No blood here. Either no-one had tried to get to the safehouse, or everyone had made it in safely. Or something had broken in with them. Titian was not optimistic. 

Vivian started humming a tune. It sounded familiar. Like - 

_ Campfires, and the dark licking at the edges of the light there’s something out there, laughter, someone’s watching you -  _

“Stop that.”

“Huh?” she looked up in surprise. Distracted. “I’m not a nutter…” she slurred. “Jus’ needa nap…”

“We can have a nap inside.” Titian ran her fingers over the door. It was just a door to the building ahead of them, but on it was a second lock, and disengaging that would open the real door. They changed the tumblers regularly though, almost certainly had since she’d left. She pressed her ear to the metal, trying to hear the clicks as she slipped a claw into the lock. 

Click. Rattle rattle. She crooked her finger a little, trying to get at the pins. Just one more - 

A satisfying final click, and the door swung open. 

That wasn’t meant to happen. 

The lock disengaging was meant to send a signal via a small transmitter built into the door. Meant to open the storm cellar under the flat metal plates to her left. Not simply  _ open the door. _ The lock didn’t even have a bolt, normally, but she could see one in place. 

Had they - had they changed the system entirely since she’d left? What could have happened to provoke that? 

“I may need some help.” Carefully dragging Vivian with her, she moved to the metal plate in the ground, knelt next to it. It  _ looked _ the same. The same patches of rust, bolts and screws in the same place. “How strong is the metal of your sword?”

“Yes!” Vivian proudly announced, brandishing her sword above her head for a moment before her grip failed and it stabbed into the ground right next to her foot. “Oopsies.”

“I don’t think yes is a strength, but I may need your help in removing this - ”

“HIYA!” the madwoman picked up her sword and stabbed it into the plate at an angle before slipping and falling to the ground with flailing arms. “I’m okay!” 

Titian sighed. She clearly was not in the best of positions to be helping. “You are injured. I simply need you to place your blade under the edge of the plate.”

Vivian blinked several times before flopping to the ground limply. 

Shit. Titian scrambled to her, checking her pulse. Weak. Thready. Her back was soaked in blood, a second injury, separate from the missing forearm - her shoulder-blade was ripped open. How had she not  _ noticed _ ?  

Distracted.  _ Weak _ . She snarled, trying to bandage the area. It needed cleaning, the girl needed a transfusion or at least aura boosting drugs - 

A screech from above. 

And now there was a Nevermore. 

-.-.-

The air was filled with dust. With ash. With the embers glowing and dying as they fell, like the souls of the city. The morning light had turned dark. Cloud cover. But the Wyrms were having a field day, choking the air with their putrid activities. 

A high-rise less than half a block away started to crumble and fall as a hive’s worth of young Wyrms started tearing through it.

Like maggots festering in a rotting carcass. 

That was what her city was now. Dead. Rotting. Being eaten away. 

She should be too. She’d left - she’d left - 

Winter clutched the sniper rifle tighter in her arms. She had to make that choice mean something. Had to save more people. Had to make it right. Make it feel right. 

It would never feel right again. 

She’d been stumbling through the streets in the wake of the Grimm, following that light. A signal flare of some kind - some of the other trainees, or authorities, or  _ someone _ . She could help them at least. Could try to. 

They’d probably only die in front of her. As she failed again. As she - 

She couldn’t think like that. One failure was not the end of everything. 

But at the end of everything, one failure was maybe a little bit too much. 

Everything hurt. If only Father could see her now, wandering, broken, through the streets of a shattered society. Rank, status, heritage, they meant nothing here. They meant nothing to the Grimm. The pen? The Grimm didn’t care about words. About ink, about treaties or negotiations or trade deals. 

He’d be in his bunker under the manor. With Weiss. Unless - 

Could a Wyrm break in? Could they already be specks of gore on the front of one of those great monstrosities? 

Weiss, ripped apart in seconds by its grinding progress through the earth. Maybe a single hand would survive, stuck on one bone-white spike. Father would have lasted longer, his aura was unlocked. Maybe he’d have killed one, or tried to. 

Winter wanted to vomit. A heaving sensation in her stomach and throat like a restless beast. She tried to keep it down - it wasn’t polite… polite? Who gave a  _ damn _ about politeness in the apocalypse?

Maybe it would ease her guilt. 

She fell to her knees, pushing away Blue’s rifle as she stopped fighting and started gagging. Voices. It wouldn’t come up. Her world seemed to spin for a moment, bright lights dancing behind her eyes and everything shifted and nothing made sense and - 

She puked. The voices became louder. Her eyes drifted and it was hard to keep them open and she fell and she couldn’t understand anything -

She felt cold. She felt - 

She was kneeling, panting above a pool of her own vomit. She stood, slowly, wiping at her mouth where she could still taste bile, trying to pool it up in her own saliva and spit it away. She needed to get moving. 

Picking up the gun again, she staggered forward. 

It was… almost cathartic. She felt better. No, better wasn’t right. Less worse. The hallucinations were a sign - dehydration. Exhaustion. 

Winter leaned against a bus stop, silently groaning in pain as her ribs protested. Water… maybe food. She tried to check her scroll to get an exact figure on her aura levels - but it was dead. Cracked. The fall down the mountain probably. She sighed, rested her head on one hand. 

She looked up at the building beside her. 

And she laughed. 

_ Schnee Dust Company - buy your Dust here Today! _

“Well. At least I know my father stocks every store with a water cooler.”

_ Good idea, Winter! Talk to yourself.  _

“At least I’m not replying to - fuck.” 

Water. Now.

_ Before I drive myself even more insane. _


	15. Reflections

-.-.-

Yolona growled, shoving her fist into the Manticore’s eye, grabbing it by the eyesocket, and tearing it out. This fight had gone on long enough and her Semblance was already getting on her nerves. 

It wasn’t decaying. It wasn’t subsiding. Every moment of combat gave her a straight boost. 

The Manticore’s ear and jaw came out with little resistance. 

This wasn’t right. In the same way that her earlier rage hadn’t been right. Not real. 

She jammed her shield between its teeth as it screamed before reaching for the sword and jamming it up through the roof of its mouth and through its brain. 

The roaring died pitifully. The issue of being in the air was little consequence.

Now, now she could feel the power beginning to fade. Faster than it should. The entire thing, it felt - wrong, her body felt wrong. Too light. Like resistance was decreased rather than her strength increasing. 

The corpse hit the ground and slid, the coarse road and rubble grating away at the remains of flesh. When it had finally slowed, Yolona stepped off and shouldered her sword, leaning on her shield for a moment as she looked around. 

The city was burning. Reinforcements were nowhere to be seen. She hadn’t seen a soul since coming down here that wasn’t another Huntress or a doomed civilian. She didn’t have to be here. She shouldn’t be here. 

Everyone was fallible. Throwing her life away for the sake of reassuring a spoilt brat…

Yolona shook her head. Worthless.

She should leave. Head for the city boundary. Fight her way through - no, the hordes would still be coming. She could feel that in her bones. To the centre then, through tunnels, away. And yet - the fight was here, wasn’t it. 

A screaming light in the distance. Hm. 

The horde seemed to shift in the distance. That was another oddity. Everywhere she looked, the streets were either clear, or filled with Grimm and death. It was blurred. 

Nothing about this made sense. Even the Grimm acted different. Toying with their prey. Taking their time. Savouring the suffering. 

Beowulves were leaping over the rooftops towards the flare. She shrugged. Follow the fight. Follow the death. Earn her place in Promethium. 

-.-.-

Nevermores, Titian decided, were the worst Grimm in existence. 

Another screech heralded  _ another _ swooping dive, claws brushing and ripping at her cloak as she ducked away just in time. The girl was weighing her down, she should drop her - but to abandon a teammate was foolishness. 

Vivian whined maybe once before losing consciousness again as she was jostled around. Titian tried to check her pulse again, but a whistling blast of feathers forced her to roll away, launching her dagger to swing her round the corner of a building. 

Why was the damn thing so fixated on the two of them? It wasn’t large enough to be an ancient Nevermore, and in general the younger birds preferred easier prey. Was it just stupid? 

Another roll, hampered by the girl’s body. This time the knuckles of the Grimm slammed into her back, what would normally be a stunning blow if not for her semblance. As it was, she felt her armour dent and crack, the leather straining to remove the force imparted to it. 

She hefted the girl from her arms to over her shoulder, using the dagger as a pivot on the ground as she readied Rasaat. She would  _ fight _ the damn thing, injured teammate or not. She’d have to time a thrusting charge with its dive, wait until - 

_ \- fire and blood and pain and roaring in the dark arm shattered can feel it boiling in your veins, “Someone’s watching us,” hissed from dead lips as the blackness creeps forward in shattered fountains of broken light some things are in the deepdeepdeep -  _

Titian screamed. Not now, not now! The Nevermore was diving, she needed, she needed to stand and fight and not let this weakness overcome her. She was - she was the flame in the dark she would stand against it - 

_ \- nothing can stand here shattered ruin of broken roots and crystal dead sky dead moon breaking open, hatching out monsters _ \- 

The Nevermore hit her, wings first. With her Semblance active, its sharpened feathers couldn’t penetrate, but the force was enough to shatter her aura, the ground beneath her cracking and crumbling. Vivian jolted harshly against her immovable body, but Titian was already moving, dagger forming the stepping stool for a cartwheel that flung her over and round, sword slicing down at the Grimm’s skull. 

But the bird was already flying up, screeching in triumph as it - 

Plowed straight through a building and into the square beyond, flapping and squawking and roaring wildly. Its flesh shimmered green, and its eyes, they shone too. In the square, hands raised, was the colourful would-be-huntress from the hall before, the one who had answered to Krypton. Titian could get a better look at her and her equipment now - the rainbow striped armour consisting of pads and the odd curving piece of metal, leaving sections of skin bare, emphasising flexibility over pure protection, the coiling flicking tail providing extra balance for bladed gauntlets and boots. 

A pair of oversized crossbow bolts trailing cable embedded themselves into the shoulders of the flailing Grimm, before retracting and yanking it off its feet. A whispered grunt of effort and the bolts were torn from the beast’s flesh in a spray of red. 

Less than a moment before the Nevermore crashed into a second building, another bolt shot out, hitting a wall and anchoring itself in place as the Hunter behind it reeled themselves in. They stood against the wall, using the tension to their advantage as their second crossbow shifted into a bladed extension of their forearm. 

Help. That was - good, she supposed. 

The other Faunus launched into a series of spinning strikes as their fellow Hunter laid into the beast. In moments the Nevermore was in pieces, dead. 

Titian stood, slowly, hefting Vivian. “Do you have any medical skill or knowledge?”

“I know some shit yeah.” The Faunus skidded over, the blades on her boots allowing her to slide across the slick ground. “But wow, she is  _ hurt _ . What the fuck happened to her?”

The black-cloaked crossbow-wielder hopped down to the ground, their weapons shifting, compacting. Fancy modern nonsense. That many moving parts would be fragile - a dust charge there would disable it, allowing her to -

Titian shook her head just a little. Not an enemy. It was the scent of that damned Faunus, clouding her head, making her angry. 

The Faunus in question seemed to have noticed her scent too. “So, you always this much of a bitch, or is it just, you know, in your blood?”

“If you want to descend to cheap puns, I could call your remarks catty.” Titian bared her teeth. 

She grinned. “Good to see you’ve got bark, though your bite seems a little lacking.” She extended a hand, the other one still probing and prodding at Vivian. “I’m Krypton. Krypton Katt.”

Titian snorted. “How plebian. Titian Cinerous.” She gingerly took the hand, shook it once. 

_ Clapclap. _ They both turned to look at the masked Hunter… in training? Their figure… it was difficult to even discern their gender. They pointed at Vivian, made a small hissing sound and clawed their hands up by their mask.

_ Demon. _

“Yes, that was her.” Titian wasn’t sure why they would be hostile or opposed to her in regards to that - she’d fought the Grimm, fought them effectively. 

They made a gesturing motion at Krypton, as if to say ‘ _ There, question answered, _ ’ before brushing ash from left breast, revealing a grey name embossed in the black overcoat.  _ Avos. _ They looked up at Titian and tilted their head, giving her the oddest impression they were smiling. 

“Now we all know each other. Awesome.” Krypton bent back over Vivian. “Seriously, what the fuck happened to her?”

Titian shrugged. “I’m not sure. Her arm and wing were ripped off, I believe. While she was transformed. The damage seems to persist.”

Krypton tsked. “You kind of fucked up the dressing on her shoulder-blade.”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“Yeah, I figured that one out myself - oh hello sleeping beauty, waking up are we?”

“Bugger off mum… five more minutes…” Vivian moaned, grunting in pain but otherwise remaining unmoving… until Krypton poked her and she tried to punch the medic. “I SAID- oh hey you aren’t mum…” she trailed off, obviously struggling to stay coherent. 

“Yeah, no shit I’m not your mum or I’d tell you off for groping me. Don’t think I didn’t notice where that hand was going.”

“Quit takin’ the piss and be a medic!” Vivian whined, waving her bleeding stump at the colourful Faunus, who leaned back, her face scrunching in disgust. 

“I’m doing what I can. Avos, you got any burn dust?”

Avos paused and rummaged around the inside of their coat, many different colours of Dust hiding in countless pockets. He- she? Avos finally found what they were looking for and held it out, offering it to Krypton with a bowed head. 

Titian frowned as the Faunus sprinkled out a handful of crystals before slapping them directly to the stump with a sizzle and the thick scent of burning meat. 

Vivian gritted her teeth and screeched thinly, but given the pain she must have been in the response was somewhat subdued. Titian was impressed. “Grrr you right bloody fucking wanker -” The rest of the complaints were indecipherable angry mutters as she clenched her fist so hard her knuckles turned white as bone. The thick scent of her adrenaline, her shock, tinged the air. 

“Easy, easy, you don’t want to bleed out. How’s your aura doing?”

“FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC!” Vivian screamed at the Faunus, her eyes flashing red and her hair lifting in an unseen updraft before she grit her teeth and tried to calm down. 

“Are you sure this is wise -”

“Which of us asked for a medic again?” Krypton turned back to her patient. “So what’re you going to do when you’re all fixed up, hm? What’s keeping you in the city?”

Vivian looked away and mumbled something, her shoulders slumping. “Family.”

“Hey, that’s good. I’ve got family too. Younger sister. Annoying little shit. Tell me about your family?”

“Little brother. Little sister. They’re twins. Mum and Dad and my sister.” Vivian groaned and stretched, twisting to pop something in her back. “The twins are annoying as all hell but sis and I kept ‘em in line…”

“What did your parents do for a living? Mine are - well, were, club bouncer types. Not many opportunities for Faunus with unlocked auras, you know? Lots of fun gigs for me and little Neon when we were tinies.”

“Heh. Dad’s a cop.” Vivian seemed to be getting some colour back into her cheeks. “Mum had her hands full just coping with the rest of us.” She chuckled. “We weren’t exactly… y’know.”

Avos sat down next to Titian, poking her shoulder and holding out their fist, bumping it down on their palm three times. Titian stared at them for a moment, before realising they intended to play that game - what was it, Rock, Paper, Scissors. She frowned, but Avos extended their hands again. 

Something was bothering her about this. A family. Twins. Dad was a cop. 

“Heh, at least you didn’t have  _ my  _ sister. Little twit’s always rollerblading around, dancing about with her little glowsticks. Wants to be a Huntress too, never misses a beat, doesn’t know the first thing about fighting yet. Little silly.” 

_ A brightly coloured girl beckons but then a talon slides into her stomach and out the other side _ . 

No. Please, no. She’d face the darkness again rather than have this be true.

“Sis wanted to be a Huntress too. Then I started preparing and she called me a nutter. Mum would always sing the twins lullabies to get them to calm down whenever we had a row.”

_ A man in blue with a gun, protecting mother, older daughter, a twin boy and girl. The Ursai close in _ . 

Titian stumbled to her feet. “I have to - I have to -” The leather was too tight around her face, her coat too close, she’d - she’d made the right decision hadn’t she, she’d killed the Grimm and survived and she’d been sorry, this wasn’t  _ fair _ of the world to do this, to throw that choice in her face - 

“Hey, where’re ya goin’?” Vivian twisted, looking up at Titian. Innocent ignorance in her eyes. She didn’t know. She didn’t realise. Krypton was standing too, but her face was more suspicious, hands held loose and ready. 

“What did you do.” Her voice was cool, even. 

“I failed. I failed to stop the darkness.” The words came out harsh and sobbing. “I know your families because I saw them die, and if I’d acted sooner they might have lived. Or they might not have. I failed.”

There was a long flat silence like a humid afternoon. 

Then Titian’s world was colour. 

-.-.-

Winter moved somewhere between a crouch and a run along the lip of the building. She’d gone into the store, had a drink of water and sat down - and woken up a few minutes later to the screeching of Vespyrs from outside. She’d dozed off, her exhaustion catching up to her, and had had to battle her way through a flock to escape. Still trying to catch up with those sparkles of light from the flare. It always seemed so - so far away. 

Blue’s rifle clanged on her back. She hadn’t had much use for it so far. This was likely due to the fact that she had little idea about how to use it. 

Point the long end at what you want to hit. Pull the trigger to shoot. It seemed so  _ simple. _ Click click boom boom. But it wasn’t. Nothing was simple. Nothing was ever simple these days. 

Ironwood was a psychotic prick and then he had a genuine, clear goal to save the city. The sun was well past dawn and into mid-morning now. Reinforcements… he’d promised them reinforcements. 

It wasn’t like it mattered. It wasn’t like there was anything  _ left _ to reinforce. 

It wasn’t like there was anything left to - anything left worth saving. 

She wasn’t worth saving. 

No. No, that was the kind of thought that made Blue’s death worth nothing. She had to save something. Someone. Make it worth it. Make it right. Make it  _ fucking _ right because nothing else would. 

She could hear voices. Honest voices. No screams, no wails of pain and suffering, just  _ voices.  _ From the alley below her. She leaned down, tried to look. 

Two figures, walking fast, running, jogging. 

They were far away. Several buildings at least. She tried to yell, her voice refused to work. She considered shooting near them - no, that’d send the wrong message. A glyph, maybe? She could launch herself near them. She - she was too tired. She sat there and listened to them instead. 

“Hey, how long has that sparkly trail been over the mall?”

“I don’t  _ know _ , Ash…”

“I should have grabbed another smoothie. They had mango.”

“For god’s sake, how far is it to this dust shop of yours?”

“Uhhh… if that’s 5th… and that’s 12th… then we’re… meant to be heading that way…” one of the figures - Ashlyn - shrunk down and pointed at the building on the corner. So they were heading southeast from here. Diagonal. The roads were in a grid system, Winter remembered that. She ran in their wake - wherever they were going they were allies. She could help them. 

She could make it right. 

A window shattered and a muffled scream startled her. She tripped, falling hard on her shoulder and skidding across gravel. Her shoulder hit something and she halted with a sickening crunch, her head hanging over the stree-

Oh. So people did go splat when they hit the ground. 

Another scream. A civilian, like the first who’d fallen, backing away towards the window, something stalking towards him inside, teeth snapping. Driving the man to fall. 

Now was the time for the gun. Point and shoot, that was all. Point and shoot. She’d killed one Beowulf already. The strap tangled in her arm, and in the few seconds it had taken to level it the Grimm had already advanced far enough that the man was teetering and sobbing on the windowsill. 

Bang. The gun slammed into her bruised shoulder and she winced, sending the shot wide. She scrambled into a kneeling position - that was meant to help with bracing the shot, right? Her hands weren’t sure how to hold it, where should her other one go - 

Bang. Her ribs ached, and the bullet shattered the window next to the one the Grimm stood in. The man was leaning backwards now, trying to crawl down and hang from the sill. The scope, she needed to try and line up the sights, but her vision swung wildly and she couldn’t close her other eye properly. 

Bang. 

The third shot missed, just like the others, and the man fell. Began to, at least. 

Winter had already slammed two glyphs underneath her feet and launched into a dive that tackled him through the window below, rolling so she could take the impact. 

The man was limp. The fall had still knocked him out, but he seemed to be alive - 

A ping from her aura and she leapt to one side, in time to avoid a pair of spiralling horns and a roaring gnash of flat teeth. A Gruff, hooves clawing at the wood floor, ready to charge. Winter’s hand reached for her sabre but the man was in the way and she couldn’t quite pull it out in time - 

A blade crashed through the wall, spinning and cleaving the Gruff in two as it began to charge. The severed belly and legs fell to the floor uselessly as the remains of the body tumbled in suit.

The axe, however… Winter heard it crash through several more thin office walls before finally embedding itself in a support column. 

Ashlyn and Aphoth. 

“Shit - I need to stop throwing my - oh, Winter…” Ash barreled in, jumping over the the dissipating corpse before spotting Winter and bracing herself against the relatively intact doorframe. “I… I heard the gun and thought…”

Winter hefted Blue’s rifle. “I - ” oh god how could she say it - “I found it. She’s dead.”

“Huh… neat… so uhh… is he dead?” Ash asked, pointing to the unconscious man Winter had saved. Saved. She’d done right. 

“I think he’s ok. I think.” She poked the man carefully. 

“Okay… that’s… that’s good.” Ash slumped down until she was practically lying on the floor, just like Winter. “... hey, what are we actually supposed to do with the civvies we save? Is there like a designated drop-off point or…”

“I don’t think there’s anything.” Winter stood. “How’ve you been?”

“Eh, so-so.” Ash waggled her hand. “Found a place that makes great smoothies. Also, coffee. Need it. Know where to get it. Coffee.” She blinked blearily several times before yawning. “Might jus’ nap here…”

The ceiling caved in, dropping a dusty Aphoth and a disintegrating Beowulf. “Don’t you  _ dare _ fall asleep again Ash, we - oh.” Her eyes widened, then narrowed, then widened again. “Hello.”

“Yes. Hello.”

“Whoooo, party…” Ash trailed off into a surprisingly adorable little snore. 

Aphoth kicked her gently. “What did I say about sleeping?”

The rockstar wannabe jolted upright. “COFFEE! … uhh… yeah… we need coffee.” She yawned again, struggling to her feet. “Do… do you know where… gahh what was it…” she started racking her brains for it - whatever  _ it _ was - “HEART OF DUST! Yeah. Do you know where the little Heart of Dust shop is?”

“No?” She didn’t even know where every branch of the SDC stores were - why would she know about some independent hole in the wall venture? 

“Oh… shit.” Ash looked truly clueless for a moment, scratching at her nose. “Hey, where’s my axe?”

“Through the wall, I’d guess. Go get it.” Aphoth smiled. “We’ll set off after that. At the very least a Dust shop will make for one hell of a showdown spot.”

“Rest, reload, reBATTLING!” Ash’s voice changed into a growling sort of dramatic announcement. “THE BLOOD OF THE ENEMY SHALL FLOW THROUGH THE- oh hey my mom has that same badge.” 

Of course she’d get side-tracked. 

“Oh my god the Tower is still up. Wait, nevermind. Thingy just died.” 

Winter shared a look of exasperation with Aphoth at Ash’s running commentary.

“Oooh, a map! … I can’t read.” Crash, thump. “I’m okay!”

“So.” Aphoth’s voice was quiet. “Heard anything from the family?”

“Why would you care?”

“I don’t. I just wondered if you had.” Aphoth grimaced. “I was, believe it or not, trying to be polite.”

“Why do they even  _ have _ one of these in here?”

Winter sighed. “My apologies. Your family?”

“No. Scrolls are down, remember? And I’ve only got my mum.”

“My Scroll is broken.” Winter admitted. “I wasn’t sure if it was a singular issue.”

“ _ Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy _ …” Ash’s whining came through the walls startlingly clearly. “Aphy, they have  _ Sandstorm _ on the store playlist!”

“How - is she  _ still _ drunk?” Winter boggled. Just a little. 

Aphoth sighed and nodded. “Yes. Ash is - let’s just keep moving.”

-.-.-


	16. To a Good Death

-.-.-

Vivian frowned. Titian wasn’t meant to glimmer and stagger. “Hey.” She looked up at Krypton, watching the colourful girl shake in rage. “Hey, cut it out.” 

She saw Avos out of the corner of her eye, slipping his - her? Fuckit, slipping their hands into their weapon braces again. Where were her swords?

“She - she - ” Krypton’s tail was twitching, lashing back and forth with bruising force. “It’s the end of the world. She let my sister die. She let your family die. I want - I don’t know what I want.”

Vivian sighed, watching Titian suffer. “Yeah. Do you think she could have protected them on a stroll through this bloody city? The world’s  _ ending _ . I’m gutted, yeah, but do any of us  _ really _ expect to make it out of here?”

What she really wanted to do was grab her sword and ram it through Titian’s face but she couldn’t really do that right now and it probably wouldn’t be very helpful on the living a bit longer front. That and she’d look like a muppet if she tried walking right now.

“She could have tried. She could have  _ tried _ .” Krypton stalked forward. Titian’s head was hunched now, her hands clasped to her head, fingers drumming on her skull as she shook and shuddered. 

“No use crying over spilt tea. Make a new pot and don’t cock it up again.” Vivian growled, hauling herself to her feet and staggering a step before Avos caught her. “Grimm are attracted to negativity. Quit your whinging and go kill some beasties.” 

“I - ” The light faded from around Titian and she collapsed. Krypton nodded, once. “Ok. So where do we go from - ”

A bleating noise came from above, slowly getting louder until it ended with a sudden crunch right at Krypton’s feet. A Gruff? Where -

The ground shuddered and another building started to crumble as the group readied their weapons. The debris shifted, pushed out of the way by a Gruff Prime that was failing to topple an armoured giant, four horns straining and pushing, mouth gnashing as its hooves clawed at the armour. 

Yolona? She was punching at the skull of the beast, ripping out chunks of bone and flesh with every strike despite its heavy plates of bone virtually concealing its dark flesh. 

Avos pushed Vivian towards her sword - which happened to be embedded in a steel plate right next to the struggling Grimm. Cheers, numbskull… At least Avos had the right idea to start shooting the thing. 

Titian was still half curled on the ground muttering some bloody nonsense to herself. Krypton was cartwheeling forward - at least until Yolona picked the Gruff up by the head and slammed it repeatedly into the ground. She backed off then. 

“A tad violent don’cha think?” Vivian muttered, staggering over to her sword.

“They don’t deserve mercy.” Yolona rumbled, her voice echoing in that deep armour. She was surprisingly unarmed. 

“Where’d your…?”

Vivian winced at the wet, meaty sounds of the berserker tearing the Gruff to pieces as she retrieved her own weapons. Apparently the myth that Gruff would eat anything was confirmed.

“Are they damaged?” Titian’s voice was hoarse.  

“Heh. No. They are built strong, like me.” 

“Too bloody strong if you ask me…” Vivian grumbled, leaning on her still-impaled sword for balance before trying to yank it out again, and failing, again.

Krypton snorted. “So you’ve been doing ok, yeah? Big girl fighting off the Grimm?”

“Hmph. Nearly two thousand kills.” Yolona said proudly. Fuck, Vivian could even  _ hear _ the smirk in her voice. Krypton’s eyes widened and Titian simply nodded, like she’d expected nothing less. She was still leaning on that fuckoff sword of hers, like she hadn’t quite recovered. Tosser didn’t deserve to. 

_ Clapclapclapclap - _ Vivian glared at Avos. Avos continued to not give a fuck and clap estatically. Yes, two thousand bloody kills. Whoop-de-doo. “That’s… have you stopped for a break  _ at all? _ ”

“No. Why?”

“Because it’s bloody ridiculous, that’s why.” 

Scrabbling of claws on pavement and distant howling and snarls. More were coming. Always more. 

The loud clacking of Avos’ crossbows brought her out of her daydream. “One last stand…” she muttered. 

Yolona glanced at her. “You can fight?”

“I’m deadweight, love.” Vivian smiled lazily, turning back to the others. “Get going. That - that flare. Go there, find others.” she said, shooing them off. Avos saluted, bowed, and ran. 

Krypton looked torn for a moment, then looked after Avos. “I’ll try and remember you. Vivian. Vivian, Vivian, Vivian. Thank you.” She too followed after. 

Titian stood there for a moment. “I wish I could take your place. I wish I could atone for what I’ve done to you.”

“Live. Fight.” Yolona shrugged, pulling off her helmet and taking a swig from her canteen before offering it to Vivian. 

She accepted it with a wince, taking a long pull and relishing in the way it burned through her body on the way down her throat. “Damn,” she coughed, handing it back. “Tha’s some strong stuff.” 

Yolona chuckled, putting it away and fitting her helmet on again. The horde was getting closer. “To a good death.”

“To a good death.” Vivian echoed, her mind falling blank.

Titian nodded. “Fight well. I hope, if there is anything after this, I’ll see you there.” She launched after the distant figures of Krypton and Avos, legs bunching and launching her forward through the air. 

“You have a strong heart.” Yolona said quietly. “I will see you in Promethium.” 

And then she charged, shield first, spikes out, sword skimming the ground behind her. 

Vivian sighed, looking down at herself. “To a good death.” 

Fire burned in her veins, her body set alight as she  _ roared _ , losing herself to the demon inside.

-.-.-

Slade wasn’t surprised to see the shop. He wished he had been, in a sense. That he hadn’t thought that Maverick would remember, would take him there to try and see if his family were ok. Because he didn’t know. 

The Heart of Dust sign creaked a little in the wind. Dad - Diamant liked old fashioned things.  _ “Not this industrialisation that’s removed all the art from dust use and crafting _ .” He even still used a centuries old dust press. A dust press, of all the damn things. 

He couldn’t go in. Couldn’t see what was in there. If they were dead - if they were alive and couldn’t look at him - 

“Man this place still feels old. Honestly surprised it hasn’t gone up in flames already, considering the state of the rest of this sorry city.” Maverick noted, not even hesitating to walk in and start inspecting dust packages and crystals. “Volatile stuff, y’know?” 

“I did grow up around it.” He walked through the door, hearing the familiar tinkle of the bell. “No time for looters. And most of the fires started would be in industrial districts. Da - Diamant set up his store in the city’s heart.” His hands trembled as they brushed across broken glass. 

“Heh. Heart of Dust. Always knew that had an extra meaning, just couldn’t quite put my finger on it.” Maverick mused. “Hey, where do you keep the shell casings?”

“Should be in a cabinet, far side of the room.” He gestured. “Sorted in size.” It all seemed so cold and quiet now. The power had failed and the room wasn’t cast in the warm hues it normally was, instead lying in a mix of pale morning light and shadow. Someone had knocked over one of the display cases, and uncut ‘slate’ wind-dust was scattered across the floor. He picked up a half crumbling sheaf, staring at it for a moment. 

“YES! It is  _ so _ hard to find anybody that stocks these in bulk.” Slade couldn’t look at him, rifling through his, their wares. Like any other looter. Like it was just any store. He understood it, but - 

He walked towards the back of the shop. There was the door to the stockroom, the tillpoint. Smashed, both. Clawmarks on the walls. Faint burns at the edge, like the Grimm had been on fire when it had crashed through, or - 

He looked closer. “There was a Geist here.”

“What?!” Maverick seemed more confused that surprised. Maybe he hadn’t heard properly. “Did you say something? Gah, shit, wasn’t meant to spill that.” Idiot. 

“Yes. There was a Geist here.” He tried not to think of what that might mean, of facing Flynt or Diamant, their veins blackened and eyes burning. “Possession Grimm.”

Maverick poked his head around the corner, his arms laden with stocked shells. “A  _ Geist? _ Shit. I thought those things hated the cold.” He frowned heavily, loading the shells into clips he’d pulled out of seemingly nowhere.

“They do. For them to be drawn here - it’s like the Wyrms.”

“Damn, every time I think we’ve hit rock bottom we hit worse.” 

“It’s a Threat Level Twelve. We’re just lucky we aren’t discovering the ancient dragons are real, or the Moonbeast is returning.”

“The ‘Moonbeast’ is a bunch of bullshit. If there really was a Grimm that big we’d all be dead ten times over by now.” Maverick grunted, looking around. “Sorry. Wasn’t expecting a Geist to show up so close to home.” 

“This  _ is _ my home.” Slade’s arm was against Maverick’s throat before he knew what he was doing. He backed off, slowly. “I’m sorry. I know what you meant.”

Maverick held up his hands in surrender, clearing his throat. “Gotcha. I’d offer you a moment alone but knowing there’s a Geist potentially around the corner’s making me think twice on that one.” He looked away for a moment. Slade could tell he wasn’t going to like what he said next. “If… on the off chance it’s someone close to you…” 

Slade grit his teeth.

“Who do you want to take the shot?”

“I can do it.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince by saying that, but he clenched his hands tighter, said it again. “I can do it.”

Maverick nodded and pulled down his goggles. Slade had no idea if he’d believed the answer he’d gotten. “Alright. I’m gonna reload what I can and see if I can set up a trap or bomb or something. Be careful.” 

Slade nodded, already slipping through the door. The stockroom should’ve been cold, to keep the dust in the best condition possible, but instead it was the same temperature as anywhere else. A trolley lay discarded on one side, plastic and metal scratched by age. 

The stairs up to their apartment were on the right. Slade looked at them, trying to summon the will to go up. There was no sign of the Geist on the stairs. They might be fine. 

… no, now he was just lying to himself. Trudging, he began to walk up them, the bannister shaking under his hand. 

A sudden bang from the shop below was enough to have him reflexively leap up the stairs, like he’d knocked something over again and Dad was going to shout his ear off. His hands fumbled with the door for a moment, pushing the ancient piece of wood up and round and open. 

The hall was empty. No lights, no sign of anything out of place. 

“Damnit!” Maverick. Fumbling again. He must have made the noise.

Slade’s footsteps bounced off the walls. The floor creaked underneath him. His breath was deafening, in and out, whistling from his lungs. 

The bed was where he remembered it. The posters - they covered the walls, to the point where he still wasn’t sure what it looked like under them. The stand in the corner, between the dresser and the wardrobe, covered in bow-ties and hats of all sorts of kinds and colours. 

Torn clothes everywhere. Splinters of broken wood. Bloodstained sheets. 

And a bloodied silver trumpet on the floor. 

Slade wasn’t sure how he got back downstairs, but he did. “The Geist’s gone,” he said, like he was sure of it. There was wetness on his cheek. 

“That’s… at least one thing we’ve got going for us.” Maverick muttered, puffing out his cheeks as he blew out his breath, shifting his weight to the other foot and putting his hands behind his head. “End of the fucking world…” 

“But- but- how can you not like hot chocolate!?” 

“And what the everloving  _ fuck _ is-”

“It’s too sweet. And hot drinks in general are - unpleasant. I can cope with coffee if I must, but anything else?” A snort. “Also, isn’t it a child’s drink?”

“-the Ice Queen doing here?” Maverick finished, turning around to stare incredulously at the scene across the street. 

Ash, Aphoth, and Winter, grabbing Dustbucks. In the middle of the apocalypse. 

“Maybe they saw that flare you fired.” Slade - he couldn’t comment on the situation right now. Bloodstained silver. That was all he saw. 

“YO, ICE QUEEN!” Maverick bellowed, swiftly grabbing the attention of the trio and any Grimm still in the building. They didn’t bother looking before crossing the road, getting close enough to stop Maverick shouting.

“You. I take it you’re responsible for the flare.” Winter looked a wreck, hair disheveled, eyes red. One arm was holding her ribs. Aphoth’s eyes were sunken and gaunt. Of all of them, Ash looked - the most healthy, he guessed. Like she had before. 

“Yeah, missed you too.” Maverick chuckled. “Man, you girls look like you haven’t slept in a  _ week _ .” 

“It feels like it.” Aphoth’s voice was quiet. “How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good, I think. I got a nap, a slushy, now some coffee - oh wait you meant him -” Ash hid her endless stream of nervous babble behind Winter and careful sipping of her coffee. He should focus on her adorableness. On something other than - other than - 

“Well, surprisingly undisturbed…” Maverick started, walking up to one of the smashed windows and leaning on the glass-coated countertop. “Unless you count the vanishing civvies and the mysteriously thin endless stream of Grimm running through the streets.”

“They’re moving on, I think. Or congregating around areas of higher despair. I don’t know.” Winter slumped down to the bench outside. “I don’t think there’s even been a Grimm attack this - widespread and heavy. Not that I recall, at least.”

“You’d be right.” Maverick smiled grimly. “It’s a perfect disaster. Wyrms, Geists, no reinforcements…”

_ Shhluuuuurrrrrrrrr _ \- everyone paused to look at Ash, who stared back in wide-eyed embarrassment. “Uhhh I think I’m done…” she said, pulling the take-away cup away from her lips. “I - hey do you boys want any coffee I can totally make more coffee.” 

“I could do with a cup.” He tried to smile at Ash but it came out as a sickly, dead man’s grin. 

“Okay!” she said happily, before the somber mood caught on and she simply scurried away. 

“Aaand she’s off again.” Maverick sighed, before groaning. “Do we even have a plan from here?” 

“What kind of plan is there to have?” Aphoth leaned more on her staff. “There’s - nothing to do. But wait for the Grimm, then kill as many of them as we can.”

“This is a pretty defensible position.” Winter’s voice evened, her mind calming itself under the influence of adrenaline, of tactics. Slade wished he could do the same. “We could hold here. Use the dust to our advantage, traps, funneling them in through into the storeroom, making it a killing floor. There are regulations about how you store dust that this shop  _ has _ to abide by, strength of walls, strength of doors.”

“You basically want us to trap ourselves and deny the advantage we hold of mobility, teamwork, and communication, then.” Maverick pointed out.

“What, because teamwork’s impossible in an enclosed environment? Tell that to the Phalanxes of ancient Mistral. But… mobility is a good point. Maybe… we start in the street. Fight back through the shop. A withdrawing, running battle.”

“And if I may point out Ashlyn has absolutely fuckall single-target attacks beyond swinging her axe? If she gets anywhere near the shop with an attack the whole thing is going to go up like a tactical nuke.”

“So she holds outside the shop.” Winter’s voice was calm. “We’re all going to die here anyway. No point in denying it.”

“We could run.” His throat was hoarse. “Try and get out of the city, get somewhere else. Survive. Save more people.”

“ _ No _ .” Winter snarled the word. “No, we don’t run. We wouldn’t survive for long anyway, and what would be the point? We save who we can. We distract the Grimm, pull them here. Give others a chance to survive. That’s what we are, a bright shining light in the darkness. We can’t run. We - we can’t leave them in the dark.”

Silence. 

Maverick nodded begrudgingly. “Yeah. Last stand.” 

Slade gritted his teeth. “I’m in too. I know this shop better than most. I’ll prepare the defenses.”

“Coffeeee coffecoffeecoffee- oh hey what’d I miss?” Ash popped back into the scene, injecting a bit of light into their darkness. 

“Suicide pact.” Maverick grinned, accepting the offered coffee and taking a sip. “... damn, this is good. Where’d you learn how to make this stuff?”

“Mum’s a - was - she’s a coffee-lady.” Ash explained, twirling through the open door to give Slade an extra-large with an innocent smile. Slade ended up smiling in reaction, almost out of habit before it became a real response. 

“She was really good at making coffee.” Aphoth sighed, and stood. “There’s some I can Call here. Enough to make a fight of it.” 

“Don’t - don’t pick people inside the shop. Please.”

Aphoth nodded at Slade. “Of course.” Her voice was gentle. 

“Hey, nice gun. I don’t remember you having one though…” Maverick noted at Winter, his voice, along with all other noise, fading into the background for a moment as Slade took the first sip. It  _ was _ pretty good coffee. 

Aphoth entered with Ash beside her, her eyes flicking across the shop. She gave Slade a sad smile then walked deeper into the store. Slade sat, slumping against one of the cabinets - like he was assisting in the shop and it was a slow day again. Ash sat down beside him. 

“So. End of the world.” He was surprised at the humour in his voice. 

“Mhmmm….” Ash yawned, stretching a little bit before slumping down against him and snuggling in. “The world can wait five more minutes.” 

Slade snorted, wrapping one arm around her and taking another sip of coffee. “Tired? Sure you’re not the one who needs this?”

A cute little snore. He wasn’t even sure he was capable of describing anything as cute after today. But somehow…

Life would find a way. Even without them in it. 


	17. Promethium

Chapter Seventeen: Promethium

-.-.-

Rooftops. It had to be rooftops. The cat - Krypton - was running ahead of her, Avos swinging ahead of them. Panting. Ignoring the noises from behind. The light. The smell of burning Grimm flesh. 

The roaring. She couldn’t tell which came from woman, beast, nor demon. They all blurred into a single cacophony of rage and pain. Human and monster, together as one. Like they thought Faunus were. 

Like she’d helped them think. 

Their thoughts didn’t matter. Right? Irrelevant to the overall development of the Faunus people. What mattered was the truth, that such myths were incorrect. That Faunus couldn’t become ravenous monsters, weren’t mindless herdbeasts or slavering predators. 

That’s what they thought about Faunus. Faunus thoughts didn’t matter. 

She looked back for half a second. Something moving in the fire, something else firing blasts and screaming beams of blue and yellow into the air. A clawed red arm slamming out of view, hitting something on the ground. 

A face, wreathed in horns and fire, grinning and looming out of the smoke. Teeth bared in a primeval shriek. 

- _ “Someone’s watching us. Deal with them.” _ \- 

Titian ran, head down, arms and legs pumping like she hadn’t since she was a little girl. 

The ground was shaking with every strike of the hellspawn. She could feel it thrumming in her veins, almost stronger than the heat on her back, or the cries of pain from the Grimm. Rage given form, breath, strength. 

The shaking grew stronger, more consistent. Memories of the Wyrm carving its way through Atlas Academy surged in her mind as the trio lost their footing and were forced to hold on to the nearest thing they could find. In Titian’s case this was Rasaat, which she’d plunged into what she thought was a stable section of rooftop - at least, until it began to crack, the passage of something massive beneath it distorting the building. 

The wave of broken ground, pushed upwards like root-displaced tarmac, stopped, collapsed. The Wyrm had dived. And that meant - 

Titian was thrown away as the Wyrm surfaced, bursting from the ground with a skull-shattering roar and a seemingly endless flow of boiling hot debris flaking from its immense body. Titian tried to reangle her body, to use her aura and gauntlet to allow herself to land safely, but the wave of debris was blocking out the sun’s thin light, the shockwave of its roar  _ palpable _ , enough to smack her into a falling piece of wall. 

It was one of the ancient ones, its length flanged and ridged, spikes rippling with every motion, its mouth vast, rotating, drillike. 

How could they ever fight something like that. It wasn’t a monster, it was a part of the landscape, a mountain in motion. 

It seemed to arc through the air, its claw-like mouth reaching out to pierce whatever got in its way as it fell towards - towards Vivian and Yolona. Titian didn’t see any more, because at that point another collapsing building blocked her sight and she launched herself at it, using the momentum of its fall to swing herself into a still intact office, crashing through the window in a burst from her aura and a stumbling roll. The glass had been thick - reinforced against attack? 

She looked up and saw the snowflake logo, the motto. The Finest of them All. 

Of course she was in an SDC building. 

Her whole world seemed to  _ jump _ , slamming her into a wall - a floor - she couldn’t tell. The sheer  _ sounds _ assaulting her from all angles were disorientating enough. The smell of the deceased and the dying the burning the broken infrastructure the - 

Enough. She was a wolf. A hunter in the dark. She slammed her weapons into the structure, anchoring herself for a moment, letting her senses reorient. She adopted a sprinter’s crouch, using Rasaat and her gauntlet as handholds, ready to start. 

A thunderous boom shook the floor, making her growl. She was getting quite sick of this. 

She released, sprinting along the wall, the floor, letting her aura and strength propel her forwards. Sideways through a door, leaping over a collapsed desk. She would not let this beat her. She would survive. 

A body. Heavy armour gouged and cracked and scorched. Hanging from sparking cables through floors. Sword and shield on her back, blocking her way. Yolona’s… corpse. That second boom. Her body landing. She smelled of blood and ash. Titian slowed, resting one hand on her shoulder. 

She’d died like any huntress should. Fighting. Winning. Titian reached up to her helmet to remove it, to close her eyes - 

“Rrrr… hand’s off…” A pained, yet still menacing growl emanated from the armour. “Not…” The body moved slightly, groaning as the fresh scent of oxygenated blood assaulted Titian’s senses. “Not dead yet.”

Titian blinked. “So it would seem.”

Yolona struggled to move. “Free me,” she ordered, gripping at the cables suspending her, unable to pull herself out. The world shuddered slightly, Yolona’s armour creaking dangerously as the berserker was put through a fresh wave of pain. 

Her gauntlet dagger was sharp, but the cables were thick enough that she had to saw at them. A set of sparks sent shocks up her wrist, but she shook them off. She was far less injured than the giantess before her. 

She could hear Yolona grinding her teeth with every spark, before finally falling to the ground with a roar of pain. The scent was overwhelming now, flooding her senses. “Not… going to last long…” Yolona grunted, straightening up before hissing and holding her arm protectively around her rib area. With her free hand she grabbed her sword, used it as an aid. “Lead. I will follow.”

“I won’t let you fall. Nor will your aura.” Titian grabbed her hand. “I - never thought I’d do this to a human. But you are the strongest of us. And I will not let you die in the mud. Your Promethium will wait, because there is still work on Remnant to be done.” In her minds eye, against the darkness, she called on her fire, warping her aura, willing it into Yolona’s. Like she was activating it again. 

Her body glowed. “Now stand up and  _ fight _ .”

-.-.-

He leaned against the doorframe, watching the streets. No Grimm. No Grimm for as far as the eye could see. He Blinked, reappeared on the roof. Still no Grimm. 

It was funny, almost. 

Endless Grimm had entered the city. Literally a sea of black, dotted with white and red. And yet, he’d personally only taken out somewhere in the middle double digits, viewed maybe triple digits close enough to identify species. 

He Blinked, reappeared between the shattered display cases in the Heart of Dust. Some of them still had Dust in them. Air, water. Some lightning. Glass crunched under his boots with every step. 

Deathstroke and Ash were still curled up against the till. They both looked - well, not peaceful. But a word like it. Innocent, maybe? Like in sleep they didn’t know what was going on outside. 

An oasis in a nightmare. He grimaced. Sighed. Rockstar was dangerous. Dust required Aura as a catalyst to become self-sustaining or otherwise, Semblance, by nature, was charged with Aura in its use. To let her, inebriated as she was, loose inside a  _ Dust shop _ of all places was asking for trouble.

And of-fucking-course the Ice Queen wanted them to bunker down in the  _ storeroom _ for their final stand. He knew that as a Schnee she’d lived a sheltered life but he hadn’t known that meant a lack of self-preservation skills.

“Any sign of anything?” 

Speak of the devil, and she doth appear. If only Vivian  _ was _ here. 

“Nothing.” Maverick replied evenly. “Literally, nothing. No Grimm, no civvies, even the wind has mysteriously died.”

The dirty cloud of ash and debris hanging in the sky, turning the early noon light into an orange halo of hellfire, it really did a bunch of good for his expectations of getting through this.

Winter frowned, brushing that really awkward half fringe she had out of her face. “Quiet before the storm. It seems the Grimm have a sense of drama.”

Maverick snorted. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” 

That rifle had to have come from somewhere and that somewhere was Blue. The annoying little brat wasn’t around so either the high-and-mighty Schnee was a lowly thief like the ‘faunus criminals’ she despised or looted a corpse. 

So much for royalty.

“Yes.” Winter pursed her lips a little, then continued. “I - do see your point about the Dust. But surely you can see mine. We aren’t going to survive. So let’s make the biggest noise we can. Go out like - like hunters and huntresses, creating a diversion. Doing something.”

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” Maverick leveled a glare at her. Not a condescending one, just a flat glare. “If you wanted us to attract every Grimm in the area and then explode them, we’d fire off a flare, light a fuse, and run. We wouldn’t sit here like ducks and call ourselves heroes.”

Heroes. What a funny notion. To even be remembered would require a witness. Even the conquerors of old knew that; word of your actions and might would not spread if there were no voices to spread it.

Winter glared at him. “We aren’t calling ourselves heroes. Doing this, taking out as many as we can, drawing them to one spot, fighting them, then blowing this place up - that’s effective. Leaving as soon as possible to, what, keep trying again in some  _ futile _ gesture of perseverance, that’s funny. Of course some of us will die. That’s going to happen anyway. All I’m saying is… let’s make that mean something.” She frowned. “And didn’t you agree to this plan anyway?”

“What, I’m not allowed to change my mind?” He leaned against one of the ruined display cases, folded his arms. “And what happened to the Ice Queen up on the mountain who said something along the lines of ‘As long as we live their fates aren’t sealed’?” he asked. “You look at a fight you can’t win and you  _ throw yourself _ in. Then halfway through you say ‘alright, I’ve done enough.’ and call it quits.”

“You’re completely misrepresenting my position to make your own argument.”

“I’m calling it as I see it.”

“Then you see wrong, you ignorant little  _ shit _ . I’m trying to  _ make _ the fight last as long as possible. One fight. The big one. The biggest possible one. Not ten or twenty tiny fights where we kill nothing, do  _ nothing _ .”

Maverick grinned. “Really? You call me ignorant?” he Blinked over, grabbed her by the jacket, and Blinked again, depositing them on the roof, then another, and another, until finally they were on top of a six story. “Look around, Ice Queen.” He let her go, watched her fall. “Tell me what I’ve missed.”

Winter stumbled. “You’ve missed nothing, you - wait.” Winter frowned. “I didn’t feel sick.”

He smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “ _ Observe. _ You might not learn a thing or two but you’ll sure as fuck  _ notice _ something.” He swept his arms wide, spun on the spot, taking in the view of the broken, burning city. “See down there?” he pointed at the Heart of Dust, “How big an explosion do you think one dinky little home-run Dust store can make?”

“You keep. Missing. The. Point!” Winter drew her sword. “We aren’t just blowing it up. We’re fighting them in, a retreating battle, like the ancients did at the fall of Zakar. We’re killing as many as we can with our weapons and our fists and our fucking teeth, then we’re blowing them up.”

Maverick laughed. He fucking laughed. “Good one, Ice Queen, real good joke. First off, two things. Zakar was enclosed. They had an army. They had  _ one _ front to fight on. See that? We are in the middle of a city block filled with rooftops and alleyways and half-wrecked infrastructure.” 

“We can have an army in seconds. Aphoth. We can fucking  _ make _ it a single front with enough planning and effort.”

“Any barrier we can make they can destroy just as quickly.” Maverick countered. “An army? An army that is about as useful as a meatshield as it is a fighter. Why are you so determined to die here?” 

Winter snarled in frustration - and she was lunging at him, sword sweeping round in a short arc to bash at him with the pommel. 

He Blinked, standing on the other side of the rooftop. “I can play keep-away all day, Princess.” It wasn’t a taunt, wasn’t a brag, just as much a bored statement as any.

“Oh can you.” Her voice was smug. Too smug. Wait - 

A whizz as a set of sparking  _ somethings _ launched at him from the sides. 

Blink. Down on the last rooftop. “Last I knew you weren’t capable of that,” he called up to her. 

“I didn’t show it off before.” Her sabre flicked open, deploying a dagger into her hand. 

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” 

“Do you know how to shut your mouth?”

Maverick made an exaggerated motion of zipping his lips shut, smiling at the Ice Queen’s look of infuriation before Blinking, appearing behind her to slam his elbow into the back of her neck, and Blinking away again, in the room under her. Attack from all directions.

Even those you can’t see.

Mobility. Mobility was key to his strategy, of course. With a Semblance like his and an Aura of… his… he couldn’t afford to take a hit. He wasn’t a tank like Yolona, he wasn’t a brute like Slade, he wasn’t a caster like the ice cold bitch herself, he was unpredictable in place and tactics. Or at least, he thought so.

He could hear the whirring of her glyphs above him. The thing about the Schnees was their Semblance was public, known - the disadvantage of it being so hereditary. But it was also very versatile. 

Unpredictable.

He got ready to run, and Blinked twice. New rooftop, above her. Hadn’t even drawn a gun yet. The ground around her was a halo of white and green - traps. He couldn’t get in close. More appearing in the air around the building, a circle of circles. 

Blink. Downstairs, grab a chair, Blink. Throw it at the Ice Queen. Blink again. Circle her. Flank her. She’s the one trying to have a last  _ immobile _ stand. There were plenty of rooftops, plenty of rooms for him to use. She couldn’t monitor all at once.

She’d ducked the chair. More of those half diamonds were hovering in the air around her, spewing that homing blue bullshit. 

He thought about Blinking in, grabbing her, and dropping her. Two problems; she had that air-jump Glyph, and if it worked he’d be down an ally. Or meatshield. Whichever she fancied herself to be.

Flares, bad idea. It was actually loaded with Screamers. He’d had suspicions but that had given him a surprise. 

HE Gauss, also a bad idea. Too powerful - also with  _ Slade. _ Fuck. His Spiker was with the brute too. That just left him his pistol, the explosive one. 

_ The Weapon makes the Man. _ And he’d found himself disarmed. 

Another peculiarity. His arsenal, one that never left his side, was inexplicably half-missing. 

No, he was thinking too much. Giving Winter too much time to  _ react _ . He Blinked in rapid succession, slamming his fist into Ice Queen’s infuriating face and leaving in the blink of an eye - heh, a Blink - onto another roof top. Another Blink. Another. A series of teleports tracing his footsteps back to the shop. 

Had to check on the sleepers, after all.

A sound from above, a crash of ice and air. The trap going off after he’d gone. She’d set the fuses too short then. 

He stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged, walking back inside. Let her stew. Hopefully her trap had only drawn attention from the air, if at all. They couldn’t afford a major assault on this position right now. Not with two sleepers. 

“Hey, Necrocutie?” he called out, trying to get her attention and simultaneously not wake up the duo.

Which was the moment when he heard the glimmer of a glyph and turned to see a very angry Winter charging at him.  _ Launched _ at him. Her other hand was flicking, more glyphs shooting from it in sprays of Dust. 

There was a very nice brick wall across the road. Maverick Blinked behind her, grabbing her by the hair and Blinking again before letting her go, displacing her right in front of that wall. Inches from her face.

And he Blinked again. 

She slammed straight through it, hit the next one, sprang up and off, still calling in glyphs, a storm of them. She had to have almost no Dust left, doing this. Whatever she was planning was a final move, something to try and take him out at once. 

What a waste of resources.

Schnee Semblances were the most Dust-intensive ones he knew. Probably the cause of the family’s impressive mining history.

His hands were shaking in his pockets. He felt jittery. Like he was going to have a heart attack at any moment. Heh… he had been using his Semblance a lot more than usual.

He smiled, lifted his head, looked down at the Schnee as he held his arms out. “Go ahead.” He taunted her with the rebellious glimmer in his eyes. “Kill me.”

“As you wish.” Her voice was quiet. The glyphs shone and suddenly she was a blur, zipping between them towards him - 

A black hand grabbed her throat, another grabbed him. The Alpha Beowulf snarled in their faces. 

“Stop this at once, you fucking childish idiots.” Aphoth’s voice echoed, redoubled. “You selfish brats. You - god, what were you two thinking? You, manchild, upset that she didn’t do exactly what you wanted. And you, upset that he wasn’t following orders like a good little drone. Sit the  _ fuck _ down. Neither of you are going to be in charge of anything from here on out. Are. We. Clear?”

The legions of shades behind her glared too. It was, overall, pretty menacing. 

Maverick glared at her, and stood his ground… albeit as non-threateningly as possible. “If you’re willing to talk about this, sure. If not, I’m gone.” 

Winter gritted her teeth. “Fine. What are we talking about.”

“First off, I’m not upset that she didn’t do exactly as I wanted. I never said what I wanted. I never even started this fight.” Maverick said, looking Winter right in the eyes and daring her to prove him wrong. “She’s determined to go down fighting here. I can see a way to do the same damage to the Grimm, if not more, and live to tell the tale.” He would have added  _ and the bitch happens to be fairly shit when it comes to listening skills _ but that was just as good as poking a Vespyr hive with a stick when it came to good ends.

“And  _ you _ keep on not listening to  _ me _ . I want to live  _ too _ but I’m not opposed to dying if it means we kill more Grimm. There’s a difference between accepting the fact that if I’m going to die it’d better mean something and saying ‘well, I’m going to die no matter what.’ Fatalism is not Nihilism.”

“Meanwhile I can totally see a way for us to do the same thing for every SDC shop in this godforsaken city.” Maverick shot back. “You haven’t even  _ considered _ alternative options. Just like that fucking bullshit hallway Ironwood ‘forced’ us through. There’s  _ always _ another way.”

“You keep on not listening to me! I’m fine with that! But let’s make each damn one count in case we don’t make it out. In fact - you know what, forget it.  _ Leave _ . Go do your own thing. You’re a fragile, useless - ”

The Beowulf picked the two of them up again. 

“What did I say about you two not being in charge?” Aphoth poked them both with her staff. 

“Hey, I’m fine not being in charge. I just want a chance to share my plan,” Maverick said, Blinking away. “But fine, I’ll leave. But before I go, doesn’t it strike either of you as odd that despite following the trail of a Wyrm, we’ve yet to see a single one ravaging the city?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

Everything fell over. A wall of sound shattered the street beneath him and sent him tumbling - he could see Aphoth’s shades being ripped apart, and Winter flying off into a wall, aura failing as she did so. 

When he could finally stand again, he could see a giant Wyrm, head looming over the buildings in the distance. 

“I shouldn’t have opened my fucking mouth.”


	18. Deathwish

-.-.-

The ground was too unstable for her to skate over, and wasting energy getting the blades to cut through concrete was a bad idea anyway. 

Krypton skidded to a stop, panting. She could still hear - still feel the Wyrm and that other girl, Vivian. Them fighting. 

This whole thing was - 

Rude words. This whole thing was some very very rude words. 

Avos seemed right as rain, spending most of their time in the air with grappling crossbow things. 

Another thunderous boom behind her. The big SDC building started to collapse even further. Served them right, she guessed. Only good thing to come out of this mess. 

“Avos can you - ” She spat out a mouthful of dust. “Avos, can you see any of them following us?”

_ CLink-kachink _ . Avos retracted their cables and landed in front of her, shaking their head. No allies, no enemies. 

“Did you see what happened to the wolf?” Was she asking as a teammate or for - 

_ “Never catch this sis, never catch this, whee!” _

Krypton shook her head and tried to ignore the aching hole in her heart. 

Avos shook their head again, and launched themselves away towards the fading trail of the flare. The low light of the burning apocalypse made it a bit easier to spot.

Krypton sighed and followed, muscles bunching and unbunching and helping them spring from one wreck to another. “So think we should go get ice cream, or go to a bakery, or what?”

_ Clingk-kachnk, clink-kachink. _ No reply. Not even so much as an acknowledgement. 

“I mean, at least we’ll die happy. And full of food.”

They seemed to be silently judging her. For her treatment of the wolf? For her callous disregard of the end of the world?

“Look, I just - I was asking about the wolf cause I wanted to know. And I do care about all this it’s just… we’re two people. Two mildly trained people but what can we do? At what point do we say, ok, time to think about how we want to die, what frame of mind we want to be in when we do, you know?”

Avos landed on the rooftop opposite, the pair pausing for a moment. Avos tilted their head in confusion. 

“Were you daydreaming?”

They nodded, made little motions of a bird with wings with their hands. It hadn’t occurred to Krypton before, but Avos would probably be very good at shadow-puppets.

“Goddamnit Avos, you and your goddamn birds!”

Happy carefree shrug. That  _ stupid _ mask. And its funny hat thing. With those two little dangly bits hanging from the sides. Aaaand they were off again. Just - why was she friends with them again? 

But she was thinking less about stuff. They’d taken her mind off the collapsing city around them, the giant beasts behind. So… maybe she liked them for a reason. 

The world started shaking again. Bigger this time, but not quite enough to knock her around like when the Wyrm - probably an Elder Wyrm - showed its ugly mug. Vivian doing something? Another Wyrm? 

A blinding light - of course she turned to look right at it - and a deafening screech like nails on chalkboard that filled her ears. She winced, hunching and squinting and trying to see what the fuck was making that - 

It was another flare. 

Avos landed beside her in an uncoordinated lump, flailing a little before rolling off the side. She leaned down to grab them and haul them up. 

“Who the fuck keeps doing that?” She wasn’t even sure she could be heard over the noise. And she was getting a headache. 

Avos thanked her in their own way, before taking up a ridiculous pose with finger guns, making little ‘pew-pew’ motions. She just knew there was an unabashed smile under that mask somewhere. 

“That kid with the guns? Yeah, seems like something he’d pull.” Krypton slapped her shoulder pad more firmly into place. “Let’s go explain to him that loud noises and lights are very rude and a bad idea.”

-.-.-

Winter woke to the sounds of battle. No, not battle.  _ War. _

She had no idea how long she’d been out. The last thing she could remember was… was… fighting with Maverick. The prick had cut her off at every opportunity. Not listening to her try and explain. She wasn’t opposed to his idea, she just thought he was prioritising survival, something that wasn’t as important as the damage they could do. Her mouth tasted of blood and her ribs were aching. 

Howls. Human and beast. Pain? Triumphant. Both. 

Maybe if she just lay here, she could get a moment’s peace. To think about Weiss, and Helia, and...

Just rest. 

Was she even holding her sabre any more? She couldn’t feel it. Or her dagger. The gun was still strapped to her back though. It was poking into her ribs, jostling them as the ground shook. 

The sounds faded for a moment as she left her eyes closed. She could almost imagine she was back in the rubble of home with Weiss, as though she’d never gone on this misadventure. Like she was studying and Weiss was dancing in the background, pulling her away to try and race through the halls without the servants noticing, to read together in the library. 

Home. Why had she left? 

Her father’s furious - no, not furious,  _ disappointed _ face filled her mind. Not that there was much difference. His anger was always cold. Wondering how she could have failed her family again, could have let this happen. 

_ What could I have done father. What - what could I have done. _

A light burned her eyes. An infinite sound of pure  _ agony _ lanced through her skull, starting and not stopping at all until - 

It was over as soon as it had begun. But it had left its mark on her. The adrenaline coursing through her veins, her heart rate up, her breathing shallow, her muscles tense. 

She had to  _ move. _

She stood in a crouching lunge, her eyes still too blind to see where she was, letting the pings of her aura warn her of danger. Rolled, bringing the rifle off her shoulder and firing it wildly. Suppressive fire, she hoped. Why couldn’t Blue have had something that didn’t require the ability to aim? 

“Watch your fire!” a muffled voice. Barely understandable through the ringing in her ears. A stray shot hitting an ally - anyone other than Maverick, that is - could spell disaster. She held her fire, shifting her grip to swing the sniper rifle into - something, that flew away with a crack. Her eyes were clearing now, revealing a teeming mass of black shapes, held at bay by more black shapes. 

Someone crouched and bleeding in the centre. Ripplings in the air. Two people fighting back to back with pistols and swords. 

And… music? A guitar - rock. 

_ “They see you as small and helpless;  _

_ They see you as just a child. _

_ Surprise when they find out that a warrior will soon run wild.” _

She knew the song. But she hadn’t heard it like this before. Normally it was solemn, an old reminder of how young huntsmen and women died. But here… it was a battlecry. A roar against the darkness. Not today. 

Not today. 

_ “Prepare for your greatest moments; _

_ Prepare for your finest hour. _

_ The dream that you've always dreamed is suddenly about to flower.” _

Grimm all around began to stagger.

_ “We are lightning, _

_ Straying from the thunder, _

_ Miracles of ancient wonder.” _

Crackles of gunfire, like the sharp  _ crack _ of a lightning strike. Slade and his clones. Maverick’s pistol. Slade dove past and in midair he blurred, three other half formed versions of him sliding out and shooting that massive pistol Maverick had been using earlier while the real Slade stabbed his swords into an Ursa’s throat. 

Winter shook her head. Focus. Holding Blue’s rifle carefully, trying to find an opening to fire. To do something. Aphoth was still half crouched beside her, gesturing her troops forward - a break in the line as a Boarbatusk smashed through. 

Winter held the rifle at her hip, fired twice, then changed the grip to try and punt the spinning Grimm away even as Aphoth launched sizzling beams of green energy across the beast’s armour. 

The thing squealed, unfurling as Winter smacked it, but it was already charging, tusks lowered and mouth chomping. She didn’t have any Dust - she’d used it all - no empowered glyphs but maybe - 

A simple repulsor, enough to launch it into the air over her. Holding the rifle straight up, hoping, praying. Pull the trigger. 

The Grimm hit the ground, falling into smoke.  

_ “This will be the day we've waited for. _

_ This will be the day we open up the door.” _

Ash. It was Ash, standing on the roof, roaring out the words, hands a blur across the guitar, strings almost invisible with the force of their motion. 

She was tapping her foot, banging her head. But the sounds came out differently. Concussive waves, shaking the air and the Grimm. 

_ “I don't wanna hear your absolution; _

_ Hope you're ready for a revolution.” _

A pair of Gruffs were  _ ripped apart _ by the noise. This was a Semblance unleashed, nothing held back, the most powerful use she’d seen from someone her age. Maybe ever. An Ursa Prime stumbled forward, only to be pulped by another power chord. 

It was awe-inspiring, it was… terrifying. The precision required in order to avoid tearing apart her own team...

_ “Welcome to a world of new solutions. _

_ Welcome to a world of bloody evolution.” _

Winter spotted Maverick, snatching back his gun from Slade, twisting and pointing it right at her. She snarled, beginning to bring the rifle up - if he still wanted a fight - 

A deafening  _ CRACK _ and a tearing pain in her ear. She opened her mouth to cry out in pain only to be knocked off her feet by the warm, wet corpse of something tackling her. Deaf in one ear, disorientated, she still saw him jam a fresh slug in and hand it back to Slade. 

His face though, emotionless. He couldn’t have cared whether he’d hit her or not. He had hit her, in fact - she could feel the wetness, the rippling pain from the strike. She kept her teeth bared at him. Fucker. Fucking  _ cunt _ . He was probably enjoying himself, behind that mask. 

Flicks of her fingers summoned more repulsion glyphs, launching a fresh breaching wave of Grimm away. Aphoth was fighting in close quarters now, her heavy staff blade slicing and cutting into Beowulves and Creeps as her dead tried to reach her, to pull her back. Winter spared a glyph to launch her to safety, another one to stop her momentum. She knew how to protect and care for her allies. 

She almost missed the Deathstalker coming up on her left with the wetness of the noises on that side. She managed to block a pincer blow with Blue’s rifle, tumbling to the cobbles, scrambling backward - where the  _ fuck _ was her sabre, why couldn’t she have held onto it. A lucky shot clipped the edge of the Grimm’s eye and it  _ roared _ , stinger coming down on top of her - 

A dead man took the blow, giving Winter time to launch herself backwards. Her head stung, but she spared a grateful nod to the tired and grim looking Aphoth. 

Something seemed off. She wasn’t sure what - 

A sickening scream was cut short by a wet crunch, the body slamming into one of the few remaining walls, right between Winter and Aphoth. Red - red everywhere. So many different it was hard to tell which wound they’d come from. The din of battle seemed to dull for a moment as they recognised her.

The music had stopped. 

_ Ash _ . 

Her ribcage had been torn open. Gutted. She could see her pierced lungs quivering as she breathed her last. Her torn heart shuddering. Her jaw hanging by a strip of meat. The left side of her face was simply  _ gone. _

Aphoth screamed. It was a wordless howl of anguish and rage and the dead answered, Grimm shuddering into existence, a mutilated Ash appearing and tearing at her guitar, the buildings shaking. Aphoth walked forward, still screaming, eyes pitch black, weeping tears of blood and darkness. 

For a moment, the horde was driven back. The ever increasing tide of dead cleared space around the entrance of the Heart of Dust. For a moment. 

Then the flyers descended, a Gryphon’s clenched claw sending Aphoth tumbling to the ground, her creatures’ movements becoming disorganised, and the Grimm surged forward again. 

Slade was there, picking her up. His other arm hung limp, but he still lashed out with his feet, trying to fight the Grimm off. Winter tried to help, to fire Blue’s rifle in support but - she couldn’t hit them, her glyphs were too weak, she couldn’t focus. 

Maverick, dancing in. Shooting in a circle. Target rich environment.

Could the four of them ever have been a team? She liked to think she would have been leader - but no. That wouldn’t have worked. Slade, then. She wouldn’t have minded working with him. 

A click as she tried to pull the trigger again. Out of ammo. She didn’t know how to reload it, didn’t have time to figure it out. She switched the grip to the barrel again, swinging it and knocking away another Beowulf. 

Slade stumbled down next to her. “We’ve - got to - Dust in the shop. Better defence. Better offence.”

Maverick must have heard, because he gave an unabashed groan of frustration. “Arrgghh, you too? For fucks sake we could have - y’know what  _ fuck it. _ ” 

The dead and the Grimm were clashing everywhere. It almost seemed as though the living were ignored, for a time. Fur and limbs flying, speckled with shadow.

Winter glared at him, her breathing shaky. What kind of trick was he going to try pull this time?

He teleported in front of her, shoved a gun and a pile of clips at her. “I’m going to leave,  _ like you asked _ ,” of course he had to add that, “And draw their fire away. Thought you might like something you could spray and pray with.” And with that he was gone, reappearing by Ash’s corpse, picking up her guitar-axe, giving it a test swing. 

The Grimm split, some moving towards him, the rest pressing forward. 

Gone. Gone to places only the moon above knew where. 

“SLADE!” Maverick called, Ashlyn’s axe buried in the back of something’s skull, “REMEMBER THAT TRICK I TOLD YOU?  _ USE IT! _ ” 

Trick?

Slade grimaced, slipping Aphoth to the ground. His hands clasped around that giant gun - and his form blurred like water, half clones slipping out to fire with massive cracks of sound again and again. But he himself didn’t fire. He panted as they disappeared, gritted his teeth, did it again. The Grimm kept dropping. 

But more were arriving. A flock of Vespyrs, large enough to block part of the sun. A pair of Deathstalkers. Another three or four Boarbatusks, including a vast low set one, almost crawling along the ground. 

Winter cursed to herself. She needed to stop just watching - this wasn’t like some show on the entertainment networks, she was  _ here _ it was  _ real _ and this inaction was going to get herself  _ killed _ \- 

Glyphs. She pushed past the pain, focused, trying to launch the larger Grimm backwards, or hold them in place for Aphoth’s dead to assault. For Slade to shoot. 

The world faded into white as a piercing shriek assaulted her senses yet again. Those goddamn _ Screamer Flares - _ Hang on, he’d wanted her to fire those  _ indoors _ at Yolona. So much light - she wasn’t even looking at the source and it was still leaving marks in the back of her retinas. 

_ Splat. Crunch. Thwack. _

She felt the impacts. Her other senses felt useless. The diving Vespyrs, blinded by the flare? _ Echolocation. They can’t see when to stop _ . Under the scream of noise she could hear more - the thick ripping of steel parting flesh and a series of heavy clicks. A booming roar of an old fashioned gun and an echoing roar of rage. Another hunter? 

“ _Blood more blood!_ _Foul beast!_ ”

Slade’s hand on her shoulder, dragging her back. His voice shouting in her ear. “Back into the shop, back, back! Reinforcements, fewer avenues of attack.”

Another hand - she whipped her head around to come face to face with a startling, smiling, haunting mask. She didn’t scream but she did jump backward, levelling the gun Maverick had left her - 

“An ally, they’re an ally, calm your tits!” Another faunus, this one clad like some sort of dumpster dwelling criminal. “We’re allies. Saw the lights, came to help. Not sure how much we - shit!” She ducked a Creep’s tailswipe, slashed at it, and for a moment the conversation halted as they cut apart another wave of Grimm. “Avos, hold here!”

The mask nodded, leapt into the fray with blades and bolts from oversized crossbows strapped to their arms. Giant siege bolts, tied with cable, piercing skulls before flinging the dissipating corpses around like flails.

They were getting Grimmstuff  _ everywhere. _ They were painting the town red over and over before it all just steamed off as though it had never been there to begin with. 

The horde seemed thinner now. Ever so slightly.

Another figure, slicing through into the opening, coat drenched in shining crimson. Their hat hung low over their faces, large brutal looking sickle lashing out as they roared. “ _Back, back! Away, away!_ _Unsightly beasts!_ ” The blunderbuss type contraption in their other hand boomed - then they flew back, as if held by invisible puppet strings, away from the swiping claws of an Alpha Beowulf. 

A roar and they drove forward up to their fist in another Grimm, ripping it in half barehanded. 

Winter stumbled back through the shattered door of the shop - the Wyrm or Ash’s music? - crawling over to a smashed pile of dust vials. Scooping up what she could, a single massive glyph with whatever combination she’d found - she could feel the tingles rushing back up her arm, aftershocks. 

Earthquake. No, she’d been in an earthquake. This was different. The Wyrm. The  _ Wyrm _ . She put it out of her mind, tried to focus - 

It roared, and even through her muddled senses and her attempts to it ignore it, there was no denying… it sounded triumphant. A beast, proclaiming its kill to the wastelands. Blue, Ash, now Vivian.

Slade and Aphoth were leant against the counter, both injured. Outside, the newcomers were still fighting - but the horde was still coming. The sky was black. 

_ How much longer can we hold _ ?  


	19. Last Stand

-.-.-

Rabid. Feral. Tenacious. There were many ways to describe the behavior of the Grimm but organised and strategic were not the first to come to mind. Nor were self-preserving and vindictive. 

But that’s what they were. 

She could see it, in hindsight. Whenever a Grimm had only been injured, not killed, it would back away from the fray, lick its wounds as another took its place, just hanging back, waiting, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. 

Aura could only hold for so long. 

Then the pain began.

They were surrounded, entirely, utterly. Maverick’s work was thinning the horde but it wasn’t enough, wasn’t enough in the  _ slightest. _ The sky was still swarming with fliers, constantly diving, some of them bombing with their own bodies as the payload. The streets were thick with creatures, all of them wanting nothing more than to see the last stragglers of a dying city  _ burn. _

As for the defenders - 

She, Slade, and Aphoth might as well not have been there. Aphoth’s soldiers had been almost ripped to nothing, only the tattered shade of Ash still remaining. The figure with the crossbow was shooting the larger creatures, even hurling some of them out of the fight with their chains - but more always returned, and the horde as a whole wasn’t reduced. The cat faunus too was taking down the Grimm, one or two at a time, but against such numbers - 

Only the third newcomer seemed to revel in it, launching into the horde with wild swings of their sickle again and again, always seeming to emerge almost unscathed. But the injured Grimm were replaced, the dead climbed over, and they kept on coming.

So. They were going to die. What could Winter do to slow that down? 

She had a shop, full of Dust. Maybe not full of it, maybe not as high quality as she would have liked, but enough to do something impressive. Off the top of her head, she could try accelerating her fellow Hunters - which would leave them vulnerable when the effect faded and they likely hadn’t trained under temporal dilation - could freeze or scorch or blast any number of the horde - but not enough to matter - could improve her team’s mobility - again, untrained - 

She gritted her teeth. She had to try. 

One foot in front of the other, proper form. Even without her sabre. Fingers shaping the symbols necessary, one foot tracing out the path -  _ “Like a dance, daughter, a focusing technique. You shouldn’t  _ need _ to use this, but since you cannot master it…  _ ” - light trickling off her form as the Dust around her was consumed, releasing its power shaped by her aura… 

Three clocks. One under each of the Hunters. The hands spun from twelve to twelve, and they became golden blurs. At the same time, spikes of shattering rock and ice, launched from the ground, columns of searing steam, and gravity holding the Grimm suspended so they  _ couldn’t _ move forward under their own power. A flick and she used the last of the purple-black Gravity Dust to create a crushing zone of  _ force _ on the streets leading up to the shop, enough for the Deathstalkers scuttling forward to collapse under the weight of their own exoskeletons, pincers crumpling in on themselves. 

It spread like a wave, a tsunami of destruction, catching everything that was there and everything that tried to jump past it. Car alarms, what few hadn’t already been set off, quickly filled the air before being destroyed. The area around the shop had been reduced to rubble. To dust. 

The streets ran red with the steaming blood of Grimm, filling the air with the noxious scent of death and decay. The sickly sweet of rot. 

Chains lashed out, whipping themselves into a frenzy and cutting through the encroaching waves - a golden blur hit every straggler, bouncing off the walls and their heads and leaving them crumpling with the force of every strike - a whirling maelstrom of death and gore held the third front, carving up any and all flesh in sight in a bedazzling display of crimson genocide.

The smell of iron and charred meat. Of boiling, bubbling flesh.

Too soon it wore off, but space had been cleared. Time. Winter smiled, just a little, went to look for more Dust - 

There wasn’t any. She’d used - too much earlier, fighting Maverick. There wasn’t enough to do this sort of thing again. She could do some things. A few empowered glyphs. But not enough to do that again. 

Slade had hauled himself to his feet. “We should set up kill points. Actual barricades. Something like a mountain pass, so not too many of them can get to us while we can get to them. Surface area.” Absent mindedly he slashed a pair of Vespyrs from the air. 

The next wave of Grimm was… holding back. Gathering, would be a more accurate term. She’d never seen - never heard of them acting like this. This was… this wasn’t an act of corrupted nature. This was organised. This was… planned.

The notion sent chills down her spine.

Aphoth was supporting herself on Slade. She shared a look with Winter. She’d noticed too. Ash’s shadow was beside her, flickering from its injuries, staring into space. A cold, pale imitation of the active, cheerful girl she’d once been.

“She okay?” The cat faunus gestured at it, panting. The end of her tail was missing, and she was clutching her stomach. 

“She’s dead. This is… an echo. A remnant of a song that’s stopped playing. But these echoes will rock these fuckers’ worlds.” Aphoth’s grin was savaged. “Prepare. I’ll herd them to you.” She spun the staff. Shadows were melting off her form again, Grimm rising from their graves in the street out in front - but instead of engaging, they were moving around, into and through the buildings. 

“How far is your control range?” Winter blinked a little. She wasn’t going to cry. They were dead anyway, and this might give them an advantage. 

“Not far enough to do that from here. Make it - make them pay. Make them pay in blood.” 

The bloodstained figure in the overcoat and hat chuckled in agreement. 

Crossbows nodded, chest heaving. They were struggling to hold their weapons up. 

Aphoth nodded at Ash. Then - she was blurred out by a wave of sound that launched her over the Grimm, her shadows moving with her, Ash herself advancing. Screams and crunches. 

“Quickly.” Winter’s mouth was dry. “We won’t have - ”

Another burst of light. Winter dropped the guns, jammed her fingers in her ears and slammed her eyes shut and curled into a ball on the ground. Low profile, low target mass, protect her senses, quicker recovery meant she could get back into the fight sooner. 

Shaking her head, trying to stand again. Earth Dust. There was still some earth Dust left, walls of rock around the entrance - 

It’d started to rain. It was odd. Usually it snowed. The heat of - heat of battle, of the burning city, of the magma the Wyrms dug up - it must have melted it. She wondered why she put so much thought into figuring that out. Coping method…? No, she needed to focus.

Two roars, different from the rest. 

More… human. Human - one like thunder, one like a wolf howling at the moon. Animalistic. Primal, both of them.  

“I thought they were dead!” The cat faunus - Krypton, she’d seen her earlier. Before the red path. Seemed like - so long ago. 

“We don’t die easy, cat.” A familiar low snarl. Titian. 

“A greater fate awaits us.” A voice echoed by metal coated in steaming gore. The pitterpatter of rain bouncing off everything. 

It was raining, hard. Lightning and thunder in the distance. Aphoth and her shadows barely visible in the horde of Grimm, barely distinguishable. Black on black, leaking shadow on leaking shadow. 

Suddenly half their number disappeared. The shades, dissipating. 

Aphoth was dead, then. 

Winter’s throat tightened. She wasn’t sure why. 

Yolona stabbed her sword into the ground, held the hilt in both hands as she lowered her head. “Proelium exequat in caelo. May you fight on in Promethium.”

“Don’t have time for that, as sad as it is to say.” Slade leaned on his sword. 

Winter nodded sharply. “Defences. Or something to slow them - ”

A Manticore landed in front of the shop. A second followed it. A flock of Gryphons too. 

“Or that could happen,” Krypton said, fists flashing up. 

Momentary peace was over.

“GET INSIDE!” Yolona roared, pulling her sword out of the ground and swiftly counting a Manticore’s swipe by cleaving its forearm off. Winter’s hands were shaking as she rushed back inside, towards safety - no, not safety, a bunker, a - 

“Help me with the door!” Titian yelled, pushing at the heavy metal slider. “We need - ”

The rest was lost in a crash of concrete as part of the store caved in under the Grimm’s assault. Winter was already moving though, forcing her tired limbs to push against the wall of steel, moving it into position. Titian had embedded her fingers in it to get a grip strong enough to slide it into place. Slade was blurring again, the blurs firing that giant pistol of Maverick’s - beyond the closing gap, Winter could see Yolona, her helmet knocked away, Krypton and the bloodstained Hunter fighting beside her. 

Teeth bared, face caked with old blood. She looked every bit as terrifying as Winter had imagined. Fighting well with the bloodied madman. Krypton stunning, dazing, knocking off balance for them to close in for the kill. 

Teamwork. That would - that would get them through this. Just a little bit longer. Work with each other’s strengths, cover each other’s failings - 

Slade, Titian, Crossbows, herself. Four left. 

She had her glyphs. Titian had her sword and… something. Crossbows she knew too little about. Slade had Maverick’s pistol and his clones and sword. She needed to - needed to secure the roof entrance.

Stumbling up the stairs. Had she said she was doing that? She had Maverick’s gun in her hands, Slade was coming with her. Crossbows too. 

Titian was all alone - a thundering crash and the shrieking of metal scraping on metal send her sprawling over the stairs. Y- Yolona had been  _ thrown _ through the barricade. The Grimm outside were in the middle of their victory throes, the Beowulves howling, embracing the blood of fresh kills. 

“Bastion!” Titian’s voice was a howl. Yolona’s body stirred, tried to stagger upright. One arm was gone, her armour torn and mangled metal dripping blood. 

“Still… have fight left in me…” her voice was little more than a wheeze. Winter watched, frozen. Her heart beating too loud in her ears, her hands shaking, her breathing shallow. Yolona’s sword changed, and Winter’s hairs stood up on end as static electricity filled the air. 

A tugging on her shoulder. Right, right, move - move to the rooftop. Secure… secure it. Why did she need to secure it there was nothing left to -

Maybe she was just being selfish. Wanting to see the sky one last time before she died. To see the coast, the ocean. To breathe in one last breath of crisp Atlesian air. 

Nothing wrong with that. She levelled her gun, fired at the Grimm she could see. Avos and Slade were shooting too, their progress up the stairs slowed. Slade was ahead of them, turning towards the door - fire escape it was labelled, and that was almost funny - his shoulder rammed into the lever, opening the door onto the dark skies. He was shouting, “Nearly ther-” 

Lightning struck, and Winter caught the barest glimpse of orange and black before the thunder rolled over her and something slammed into her. She leaned back, kicked up her leg. Basic roll the aggressor over manoeuver. Her assailant was sent tumbling down the stairs as she righted herself - something slammed into her chest - she caught it on instinct -

It was - it was - 

Winter dropped Slade’s head. It tumbled away. 

Crossbows gasped, staggered forward against the railings - then a blur, something, knocked them over and down into the room below. A smack on her own aura, she slipped backward, onto the roof - the rain made the ground slick and she slipped as something hit her leg. Her aura fell, and the next strike hacked into the flesh of her upper arm. 

She couldn’t - what was attacking them? 

More lightning. A charred Vespyr fell onto the rooftop, Winter following it’s steaming trail - 

Maverick. Her heart skipped a beat. His skin was pale, diseased, his veins black and fighting against his skin. His face - it was like it was shattered, cracks of vicious purple-red, pulsing. Black eyes, glowing orange irises. And that grin. It was like a shark’s. All teeth. Manic. Rabid.

A slasher smile at its finest.

He was hunched over, his breathing shuddered. Something on his back, fur and scales and horns, glaring at her with red eyes from a skull of white. Neither of them blinked. It was unsettling.

She only saw him for an instant in the lightning. Then he was blurred again, only faint after-images visible - 

She managed to dodge the swing of Ash’s axe-guitar. Tried to fire a shot, but he was already gone. She flicked wet hair from her face. He was already coming again, using his speed, using the time she took - she managed to just about block the blow with the gun but it broke from the force, sending her stumbling - the afterimages, could she track him? 

Behind her - she barely ducked in time, felt the pull of the blade on her hair, it was blunted. Didn’t cut cleanly. Still, she felt the wetness on the nape of her neck. A little slower and she would’ve been Slade. Blue’s rifle slipped into her hands - she still hadn’t loaded it, would have to use it like a club. That would do, maybe. Wide, area denying swings - 

He arrived in the gap between them, axe sinking into her stomach. She screamed, a glyph appearing to knock herself back in a spray of blood - oh god it hurt, is this what Blue had felt like when she was being ground apart by the stone, it hurt, it hurt, it  _ hurt _ . 

A flash of heat and light. Someone else up there, sword ablaze. Titian. Her dagger-grapnel allowed her to evade Maverick’s next attacks - and she was already spinning down from midair, a whirlwind of flame following her. She landed next to Winter, and then there was sizzling and more pain and Winter screamed, but she wasn’t bleeding any more. 

“We need a strategy.” Titian flinched as a series of fast attacks, barely visible under the flashes of lightning, rended her armour. “ _ Now _ .”

“Area denial. Set the - ” Winter spat out blood. “Set the roof on fire. Fewer places to go.”

He was so  _ silent. _ She could imagine his haunting laughter, berating her for even thinking she had a chance. He was wrong he was wrong she did have a chance and she was going to take it oh god it hurt it hurt so bad -

Light. Warmth in the chilling downpour. Sizzling rain. Steam filling the air. Reduced visibility. But he’d make a shadow, he had to. There, against the fire, a flash of a figure, three figures almost with how fast he was moving. She had enough time to prepare a block, a counterswing. “More!”

He was there and gone before the strike even connected. But she’d done it. She’d stopped him from hitting her again. In the back of her mind, a perverted echo of his voice rang through her head like a taunt. “ _ I can play keep-away all day, Princess. _ ”

“Well I can too.” Winter grinned. Titian was setting more fires - she staggered as she was struck but a sweeping strike spread more flame, sent Maverick backwards. Half the roof must be ablaze by now. He’d have nowhere to -

Maverick dived out of the flames at her, on fire, swinging twice. She barely blocked the first, diverted the second so it merely scraped her leg. A cry from Titian as he hit her too, hamstringing her. 

The Geist. She’d been fighting like it was  _ Maverick _ she was fighting but it  _ wasn’t _ . It was his body given will by the Grimm - and the Grimm didn’t care about any damage to him. Another cry from Titian. 

The Geist was the target. She had to - get it. Not Maverick. What did - what did she know about them. Didn’t like cold. Didn’t like electricity. 

The start of a plan. “Titian, I need you to - ”

_ Crack. _

She couldn’t breathe. Her mouth gaped, no sound coming out nor air coming in. Her knees felt… weak. She staggered back a step, collapsed. One hand to her side - it was wet. She could - she could feel it flowing freely between her fingers. It hurt. Dear moon above it  _ hurt. _

Her chest felt squishy. The whole thing felt like it didn’t move - she couldn’t - she tried to breathe - 

Titian shouting something. Maverick standing over her, looking down on her, reloading and pointing it right between her eyes. 

So - so this was it. Time seemed to stop. Slow down. She couldn’t quite tell the difference. The ringing in her ears never ceased. The pain seemed tenfold - no, hundredfold. His manic grin twitched. The Geist at his back hissed approvingly. 

She was going to die. 

And then Titian was there, her sword filled with lightning - the Geist was flinching away, Maverick trying to turn in time and she had just a moment to fumble out on of Blue’s clips, radiating cold - Maverick struck Titian down, the yellow light fading, already turning back to her - 

His back froze. He screamed as ice punched into him, but the blackness was held in it, the veins already sliding from his face. 

She’d done it. It was so cold. 

“It’s not real it’s not real it’s not real-” Maverick was hissing, growling, as though he couldn’t decide between despair or anger. Heaving in breaths as the Geist shrieked and clawed at the air, impaled on shards of ice. “It’s all wrong the people the places the -” he coughed up red. “The semblances are wrong the - everything - everything is wrong it’s not real IT’S NOT REAL!” 

He flexed his power again, falling to his knees, placing his last shot into the chamber. He laughed, head thrown black, blood speckling his face. 

Winter couldn’t even tell if her heart was still beating. 

His hands were shaking. Still heaving, gulping in air, water from the rain. He was bleeding from everywhere Winter had impaled him. He was shaking his head. He couldn’t look at her. He was - he - 

“It’s not real,” he whispered with a manic smile on his face, tucking the gun under his chin.

She couldn’t look away.

-.-.-


	20. Nightmares

-.-.-

She woke up. It was all black. She frowned, looked. Peered. Nothing… nothing…

Her heart rate was accelerating. That was bad. She - she remembered that, that - that was bad.  _ Bad _ bad. Black. Blank spots? No, not spots. Nothing. 

Don’t move, pretend to be asleep. 

Nothing. Still nothing. 

She couldn’t do it. Her chest raised and fell as she started hyperventilating. Her wings twitched, her limbs were jittery. Soft. Soft bed. Soft bed was new, was  _ different _ , was  _ unexpected. _

Expectations were everything everything everything without them nothing was certain nothing was -

“Please, try and calm yourself. You’re upsetting the weaver.” An even, measured voice. Smooth, deep. Not gruff and scratchy. “Miss Helia?”

The tone. The tone was the different. The same. The lines blurred between  _ Miss Helia  _ and  _ Subject 13-H _ . 

She would have screamed. But she didn’t  _ know  _ \- didn’t know how - how they would react, how long she could keep it up, what it would do. 

“Miss Helia! You are a Huntress. Please, control yourself.” A sense of anger, not just in the voice, but in what surrounded them, a roiling mass of it, like someone asleep and trying not to wake up. “I know this is difficult and disorienting, but please. I’m here to help you. I’m here to help you.”

Her muscles tensed. The voice was closer that time. Everything was  _ wrong. _ A touch - the lightest brushes of feathers - of skin on skin - she shot away, slamming her back into corner and shivering as she ripped off her blindfold, pulling out hairs - more wrongness, it was all wrong nothing was making sense -

Blur. Bright. Too bright. Too much. Too much everything. She couldn’t calm herself. It felt like another  _ Test _ . Only crippled. Her only keys to completion taken from her. NO senses no -

“Weaver, can you give her something? She isn’t used to - ”

A clearing. A clarification. Not what she knew but - 

“Thank you.” A man with dark hair smiled at her. He wore a suit. “Hello there.”

She could  _ seeeeee. _ She could see too much. Everything. Nothing she hadn’t seen before but not in clarity in destruction in - “H-h-h,” her throat locked up as she hid, shaking, behind her knees. I-Ironwood. He looked different. Her eyes cleared, she saw him herself for the first time. 

“How’re you feeling? Can I get you anything?” He sounded - concerned. Like he actually cared. 

But… he did care. He had cared. In his own way. Her shaking intensified, forcing her to wrap her wings around herself. Like a cocoon. Too small. Not enough to blanket her from the world. She remembered it differently. When she was smaller. Something… motherly about the action. 

She shook her head, paused. Nodded. But she couldn’t speak.

“Could you tell me? Could you write it, or - show me, somehow?” He looked up. “Weaver, a little help, please?”

Slowly, a pen and paper slid into being in front of her, like snow pushed by a shovel. It didn’t move. She frowned, glared at it. It refused to move. She scowled. Tear it. Move it. Why. Wasn’t. It. MOVING. 

Nothing… nothing made sense. Nothing was normal. Wing. Wing was healed. Nothing… was real? 

She reached out, grabbed it with her hands, stared at it. 

…

She’d never learned how to write. Answers… how to… “A-answers…” she pushed out, her voice quieter than a whisper.

“Of course. I’d always planned to give those to you. And - an apology. One long overdue, I think.”

Overdue…

Her eyes narrowed. She looked away, down at her feet. Curled up into a ball again. Don’t think about - don’t - 

“I’m sorry. What was done to you was monstrous. Truly monstrous. To think he could have - done what he did. It appalls me. It  _ sickens _ me. To know that I didn’t know about it, that I, through ignorance, let this happen. That if I hadn’t put the pieces together, it might still happen to others. That - that a man I thought I knew, that I  _ trusted _ \- ” He clenched his fist, hissed air out through his teeth. 

She stared at him. Using her eyes… it was different. Clearer- no, not clearer, more defined. Sharper.

“Rest assured, that it will never happen again. No-one will suffer like you did. I promise you that. If such experimentation proves… if it has to happen, it will happen to volunteers.  _ Real _ volunteers.”

He spoke as if he expected his word to be taken as law. They didn’t care. They would  _ never _ care. She knew. She’d seen it. 

“I can’t stop the project though. It’s - ”

“Necessary progress.”

She surprised herself. Lacking sight was affecting her more than she realised. She didn’t like surprises. Surprises were bad. Surprises were  _ pain _ and laughter and  _ hurt. _

“I suppose it is. I can make it better, though. Make it… worthwhile.”

“No pain no gain.” 

It was something  _ they _ had told her. Surprise Tests before food. If she got through without pain she was obviously strong enough to do more. No need to waste food unnecessarily on her. Hurting herself didn’t work, either. 

She shook her head, trying to clear the vivid pain from her mind. Look - look to the future. Not the past. 

“There can be gain without pain. For the innocent at least. Let those - jaded and bruised by the world take the pain. We’ve got enough already.” He smiled a little at that. 

She didn’t. 

She saw Grimm, everywhere. A giant tunneller she didn’t - couldn’t know the name of, cruising through the school, out the side of the mountain, fading away just like the pen and paper had faded in. 

She saw them decide to  _ follow  _ it. 

“Why?” she asked. She left it up to him to discern what she was asking about.

“This? Because soldiers can’t have innocence. They can’t be - wide eyed and frozen. They can’t be simple souls. They have to know what it’s like. What this war is, if they’re going to fight in it. If they don’t… it’ll eat them alive. I don’t expect many of them will decide to join, after this. I don’t blame them.”

The mountainside collapsing. The big lion-cat-thing. She couldn’t remember much. The big flaming roaring mad person. “None of them will trust you.”

“No, they won’t. I’ll have to prove myself worthy of trust, like I have with every other year. And… maybe them not trusting me is a good thing. We’ve had too many tyrants, and I have too much power not to be wary of myself.”

“Power does go to one’s head…” she muttered, knowing it all too well herself. Bullies. Arrogance. Wanting to tear Aphoth’s head off for threatening the one thing she was willing to suffer to have. Being forced through Tests for the amusement of her ‘betters’, not for the much vaunted ‘Greater Good’.

So much happening, so quickly. Some dying, some raising armies, some simply fighting, for it was all they knew. Bright lights and loud noises. Time. Time time time. 

“How did you get away? I know his security. What he makes. I’m - impressed.” Ironwood looked over at her, a giant over a burning city. 

Ghosts. When did her perspective change? There was a room, then there was not. A void, scouring the world of everywhere unobserved. Observed. The sunlight was glaring in her eyes. 

“Very, very, carefully.” She shuddered. “I’m not going to tell.” She’d found her voice again. Her resolve. She was happy, she’d missed those. So difficult to retrieve. “I’m not going to let you fix it,” she hissed. “N-not - not going to cripple the others.” 

Not alone. Never alone. Always watching. Always watched in turn. 

“I wouldn’t do that.” He sounded hurt. Not the real gut-hurt she’d been, but the fake hurt they used when she wouldn’t lie still and let them cut and  _ cut _ and  _ cut _ \- “I told you. I want to change it. I will change it.”

She clung to herself tighter, glaring at him over the tops of her boney knees. “You never said how. You never said what you’d change it for. What you’d change it to.” She could see it in his eyes. He wanted to be good. He wanted to - to - 

He wanted the Grimm gone.

“As I said. Volunteers only. Full understanding of what they’re volunteering for. No more invasive procedures. Full surveillance of the good doctor - ”

“ _ HE IS NOT GOOD. _ ” 

Oh, if only - if only she could just  _ rip and tear him to shreds for even  _ **_thinking_ ** -

Ironwood looked genuinely scared for an instant. Then his face settled. “I’m sorry. It’s - it was his codename. I should have thought. Full surveillance of Dr. Polendina to make sure he doesn’t attempt any experimentation like this again.”

She froze at the name. 

For - for the greater - 

No no no no no nO NO NO -

Ironwood wasn’t like them he was good he was good he was for change, for progress for -

For - 

For the greater good…

She could see it in him. He saw the suffering but he was removed from it it was not his responsibility all he will do is give a smack on the wrist and another chance because he  _ knows _ he knows there is no other way forward the dark is coming the dark is coming the dark is - 

_ The Darkness is already here, my pretty little angel. _

Never - never again. 

“Helia. Miss Helia!” He was shouting. “You have to stop! If you wake the Weaver they die!”

The world is shivering and shaking, and she can’t care. It’s all just - snowflakes and dust. Specks. Remnants. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Dust to Death. There was no winning there never was - 

“Winter will die, the neural feedback will be too much!  _ Stop this _ !”

_ Kill her. Kill them all. Every single one of them even HE will be trapped in here never to bother you again we must act we need to - _

Her heart wouldn’t calm. Her breathing wouldn’t either. She thought of Winter. Of  _ her _ Winter. 

Was it ironic that she was legally the property of the heiress? An unopened birthday present, resting on a desk. Little more than a note and deed. An unfathomably specific share in an enterprise. 

Distraction… distraction...

She would open it, dismiss it at just another attempt to get her into the family business. She’d refuse it. Try to. Her father would refuse. It was a gift. You can’t return gifts if you didn’t like them. You could destroy them but it wouldn’t matter. The deed would just return to the enterprise and Winter would have gotten nothing. 

She’d read it. Read it properly. 

She imagined the reaction it’d bring. Shock. Horror? No, righteousness. Old Winter wouldn’t have taken issue with a worthless servant - slave a slave she’d be nothing more than a slave- 

No. New Winter,  _ her _ Winter… different. Different to the core. She would - wouldn’t rip it up. Wouldn’t treasure it. Would… would gift it. 

Freedom. A key to her cage.

“Helia. Helia. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t know his name would - I will observe him. Make sure he can’t do this again. No slap on the wrist. A full on manacling. Does that sound better?”

Fighting. Always fighting. Infighting. Temper, temper, don’t let the pot boil over. Bubbling rage and simmering contempt. Vindication. Approval? 

“Y-y-you c-can’t f-f-fix it.” 

Another tunneller. Bigger than the rest. Bigger than all of them. Eat them all up one by one until all the morsels are gone.

“I can try. Isn’t it better to try and fail than not try at all?”

Try. Succeed and be rewarded with another day of Tests. Fail and be forced through more anyway. Try to escape be rewarded with freedom… fail and… and… 

She didn’t want to think about it. 

“S-sometimes… it i-isn’t.”

Sometimes it was just better not to upset the status quo.

Ironwood sighed. “I have to try. For the sake of my own conscience, at the very least. What’s the point in saving Remnant if it’s at the cost of people like you?”

…

Maybe he wasn’t…

“You’d let Remnant fall… for me?” she asked, trying to keep the foolishly hopeful tone out of her voice. The- the thought that someone would  _ want _ to  _ sacrifice _ , for - for  _ her _ .  

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’d be worth saving a Remnant that couldn’t stop what happened to you. I want to prove that Remnant isn’t like that. That we aren’t like that.” He looked so solemn. “There will be a price to save Remnant, but it should be paid by those who know it, who can shoulder the cost. Not by you. Not by children.”

Not by children… not by her…

She hugged her knees tighter against her body, rocking back and forth and watching. Just watching. The tunneller and the flaming thing had finished their fight. There was a new army.

So many dead. So many dying. 

“She could have killed them, you know,” she murmured, staring intensely at the figure that emerged from the rose of ice and snow. “The big lady.”

“Myrrha was nearby. Should Miss Reindottir have done anything too dangerous, she would have intervened. And believe me, Myrrha is more than capable of beating any five hunters.”

“Not quite fast enough.”

Winter was damaged. She’d carry that pain for longer than either of them realised. 

“No. Aphoth’s actions surprised me. They shouldn’t have, but they did. I understand them, given her past, but she’ll be - hard to teach. Very hard.” Ironwood frowned. “And her Semblance… it’s caused me enough problems already.”

Bright lights loud noises pain pain pain - 

“She brings back the dead.” 

She didn’t need foresight to know what they were - what they had been.

“Yes. In a sense. A derivative of what her Semblance should be, given her blood.”

Blood. So very very red. Like rust. Like pain. Like  _ anger. _

“Her blood is her own.”

She should know. She’d spilled it.

“Yes. I suppose it is. Though given one of the other trainees… ” Ironwood chuckled. “He’s got an affinity for blood. You might get on with him, actually. You’re both - very angry at the world. Very angry.”

“I can enjoy the moment…” she mumbled, looking away guiltily. Winter did make for the softest, warmest bed she’d ever remember. She had seen something, wreathed in red and pink. Not just a red path. “Our methods differ,” she added dryly.

She surprised herself again.

Why did she sound so mature? 

She wasn’t.

“The dead weren’t real. They were... dead. But only briefly. I couldn’t harm them, not for something that was simply meant to evaluate them so I could test them with - this.” He gestured at the city. At the shop, blazing with fire and corpses. Some weren’t disintegrating. “Volunteers. From my students. Brave, brave boys and girls.”

“Men, women.” she corrected. “They aren’t young. They aren’t innocent. Not after what you put them through.”

The loud died down to silence.

Ironwood nodded. “Yes. Brave men and women. I’m sorry.”

The screaming began again.

“Not after what you’re putting them through.”

More war always more war the fighting never stopped never ended the -

Winter wouldn’t be the same. None of them would be. They’d be left on edge forever.

“I explained why. I’m not a good man, but I’m trying to do good.”

A moment. A moment is all. A moment is  _ nothing. _

“Making the necessary sacrifice.” She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t drag her eyes away from the devastation. “For the greater good.”

The bright and the red, one too injured to go on, the other torn to pieces. Swell, burst, burden gone, crimson everywhere. 

Ironwood’s face was downcast.

Fight. Fight to your last breath, never uttering a word. Roar for your freedom as you fall.

“I suppose so, yes. Though - I’ll try to be more honest. More open.”

Reach a crescendo of chaos with fire and flame and lightning and thunder -

“Share what information I have. Not be so much like - others that I know.”

Knowledge was everything and you couldn’t fight what you never knew.

“Minimise the sacrifice, as much as I can, make sure it’s done by people who can take it, who will take it and run with it as far as they can.”

The sacrifice makes the difference all the difference in the world it was never it was always worth it never -

The loose cannon found its spark. 

Left Winter alone. So, so alone. 

Withering under her own burdens and self.

Ironwood sighed, looked up at the slate sky. “This will all end soon. Is there anything at all I can do for you?” 

She thought. There were many things. 

But one…

Helia looked at him with dead eyes. “I’d like to fly.”

-.-.-

Her ribs were paste. Her guts poked through her side. Every breath was a phlegmy burst of laboured, bloody agony. The burns, the scrapes. The fire edging closer. It was so cold. 

Yolona was still fighting. Winter could hear her in the shop below, roaring and shouting. She’d outlast them all. Just like she’d thought she would. 

It was so quiet up here. So calm. Maverick’s dead body lay beside her, its skull shot away, and everything was calm. Titian’s paled face was a mask of contentment. The sky was so peaceful. So large and welcoming above her. Grey and shining. The Grimm up there were all gone, for the moment. Just her and the clouds, the rain. Falling on her face. 

There was a bird, too. A big one. Wearing a dress? No, that was the blood loss talking. Probably a seagull. 

It was a good death, Winter decided. As good as deaths got. Even if this was - what had Maverick said? She was cold. So cold. 

A flash of light hot enough to sear her eyes. She tried to roll and shield them, but all she could see was the bird coming closer - Helia, still wrapped in Aphoth’s dress. But her wings, huge and golden, sevenpaired, flapping in a halo around her. Ready to take her away. 

She was - she was ready - 


	21. Revelations

-.-.-

_ So you found your darkness. You found your light.  _

_ It haunts you. It will always haunt you.  _

_ Running from shadows never works. _

_ But sometimes you can kill them. _

-.-.-

Titian hacked blood, her vision dimming. Maybe - maybe death was enough of a redemption. The dark here was soft, not specked with flame. Safe. She could finally let it end. Let it all fade. 

…

It wasn’t fading. 

If anything, her senses were returning stronger than she remembered. 

Bustling… talking… none of it made sense, it all blurred into an uncomfortable wall of  _ sound _ but it was  _ there. _ Noise, the smells of life. Food. 

Feeling returned to her limbs. Like a rush of blood. Pins and needles. 

She couldn’t even move. Couldn’t even open her eyes. 

“Hey there, just stay calm,” a voice cut through the blur, “We’ll remove the restraints in a moment. How are you feeling? Everything moving properly?” 

Restraints - she - what was this - was heaven - was death a cage? Where was she? 

She’d thought it was over. This was - this was a sick joke. 

Titian tried to scream, but her jaw and throat didn’t work properly. Dry. Her head hurt. 

A hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, it was just a dream. Atlas is fine, nobody has been hurt.”

It was supposed to be reassuring. It wasn’t. It made everything - every agonising choice, every failure, every success, it made it all meaningless. And it made no sense. She thrashed, pulling at what she now recognised as straps holding her limbs down, she had to get  _ out _ . 

“Whoa, whoa, please, calm down. The restraints are only here so you don’t hurt yourself.” More  _ ‘reassurance’ _ . “Or us. I know the Dream can provoke rather extreme reactions and behavior, please just calm down, let us explain. Can you nod or shake your head? Do you understand?”

Titian drew her claws and  _ stretched -  _

The straps snap and she stood, fast. No weapon, no Rasaat, but they’d left her gauntlets on her - she pinned the human to the ground, knife to their throat, claws caressing their face and she  _ snarled _ , screaming and - 

She suddenly found herself slammed into the ground on her back, a forearm over her throat and all four limbs pinned by a furious red-headed woman who smelt of charcoal and sweat. “ _ MISS CINEROUS. _ ” she started, growling the name through clenched teeth, “If you  _ dare _ attack one of my staff again you will find yourself in the infirmary for a week.  _ AM I CLEAR! _ ” 

“I. Was. Tied. Up. I was  _ dead _ .” Titian tried to stop the rumble in her vocal chords, or the instinct to bare her throat to a superior. 

“Those restraints were  _ specifically _ to stop this happening.” the woman stated, glaring at her. Eye contact. Aggression. A challenge. But slowly, the pressure on her decreased, until she was freed again. “Do  _ not _ disappoint me again, Cinerous.”

Titian fell back onto the camp bed and nodded, slowly. Around her were the others, waking up, more humans in white bending over them. A snap as Yolona woke, casually breaking the bed and throwing the staff aside to roar in frustration as she punched a wall, before a grey cloaked figure rested a hand on her back. 

Yolona was shaking, her breathing heavy. Her left arm was limp at her side. “I- I thought I had found Promethium,” she muttered, leaning her head on the wall. Promethium. Berserker heaven, Titian assumed. The grey shrouded figure whispered something quiet, hand still on Yolona’s back. 

All around the room there were more displays. Yolona’s breakout, Titian’s own outburst, some screamed, some were puking. The armoured woman was still there. Moving from trouble spot to troubled spot, dealing with them. Trouble like her. 

A superior then. A teacher, or just a huntress? It was hard to say. 

“Ma’am? This one won’t wake up.” 

A heavy smack on the forehead and one panicked squeal later, another problem was solved. Titian’s ears picked up the telltale sound of petite snoring shortly after though. A short-lived solution, it seemed.

She was content to watch and listen, for now. She’d made her position clear, been told what was expected of her - she didn’t  _ like _ it, but she knew. Best to wait. Observe. 

The person strapped to the bed next to hers woke with a jolt, straining against their ties for a moment before slumping back down. It took her a moment to recognise them. Avos. Even without the mask, it was still frustratingly hard to discern any feminine or masculine features. 

Her limbs felt heavy. Hadn’t she just been asleep? But she still felt tired. Not the physical tiredness of a heavy body, but a heavy mind. She - she wanted to be done with this. The - the sheer  _ discordance  _ of it all was… 

“I have to see her, I have to see them, are they okay, did I save them?” Aphoth, thrashing on the bed next to the somnolent one. “She’s so still, are you _ sure _ are you  _ sure _ she’s okay, I can’t feel her, I can’t feel them - ”

“Everyone here is alive, in various stages of waking up from the same Dream you were in. Calm down, take deep breaths, stop panicking.” More orders from the armoured superior. She had to be a teacher. Or an enforcer. But the Academy had androids and mechs for that. Teacher, then. Teacher of what, though? 

She continued to wait, continued to watch.

-.-.-

_ You’re angry. You want to rip and tear and burn and shred. But you can’t.  _

_ People don’t like seeing you angry. You worry about that, don’t you, about what they’d think about what they’d  _ do _ to you when you show your true colours.  _

_ Hotheaded? Try hot-blooded. High strung. Overexcitable.  _

_ You say you let your demons out to play but in reality they’re the ones locking you away. _

-.-.-

Firefirefirefirepainpainpain -

It hurt. It hurt a right bloody lot. 

She’d show this damn  _ worm _ what she could do - she’d show  _ everybody _ w-what she was capable of -

_ Magma veins steel skin fire- _

She couldn’t move she couldn’t - why was she so cold she was  _ never _ cold like this -

Adrenaline, anger, rage, confusion, it all flooded her body in a rush she couldn’t control. She opened her eyes, rushing forward in a snarl and her body was  _ burning _ \- 

Something snapped, voices - noises - they all blurred and she felt tired she felt weak she - this wasn’t right - 

She fell to her knees, the fire retreating as she clutched at her stomach with her arm - arms? Why - how - what was going on?!

A strong hand grabbed her shoulder and squeezed. Squeezed  _ hard _ . She bared her teeth, hissing in pain. “S-sod off -”

The voice cut through any confusion she might have had. “ _ These are extenuating circumstances so I will allow it this once, miss Eruthros, but do not talk back to me like that ever again. _ ” 

Ice filled her chest. The hand let go. She finally started to make sense of the blurred noises and colours in front of her. She hugged herself tight, started rocking back and forth with eyes open wide. She - she’d just - 

She yelped and scrambled away as something  _ cold _ pushed against her. There was a large, red-headed woman standing over her. Not angry, but not happy either. “The  _ results _ of your little…  _ display. _ ” She gestured to the stretcher that a couple of TSO’s were extinguishing. 

Oh. 

“It was a Dream. None of it was real. You’re back in reality now, so don’t go starting up trouble.” she ordered, before moving away. 

Vivian sat there, horrified. None - none of it had been real? But - she’d died. She’d - she’d unleashed… 

It can’t have been just a Dream. It’d felt so  _ real _ , so - so - 

She whimpered, curled up into a ball. 

She wished she had her hat. She could hide behind it’s huge brim. It was also good for keeping the rain - snow, snow around here - it was good for keeping the snow off too - wait she should be focusing not distracting - 

Maybe what she needed right now  _ was _ a distraction, so she didn’t notice things like Yolona raging against a wall or Titian - _ that bitch that let her family  _ DIE - wait no no no it wasn’t real it was just… just… just a dream. Nothing to… to…

But she’d only just found out it was a dream. 

Titian had thought it real too and  _ she still left them for dead. _

No, she… she… shouldn’t…

Shouldn’t hate her. She was only doing…

Fuck, everyone in that bloody Dream was doomed to die one way or another.

That didn’t stop it from hurting.

A noise from behind her. Someone thrashing. Oh, Krypton… Titian had let her little sister die… 

Krypton was struggling. Panicking by the looks of it. A TSO quickly attended to her, dropping the fire extinguisher and doing their best to reassure her. Heavy breathing, flushed cheeks, the cold sweat. 

Vivian wished her awakening had been that calm. 

“It’s okay, it was just a Dream. Welcome back to reality.” The TSO waited until they’d stopped moving to undo the restraints. Restraints… Vivian couldn’t remember - oh, right, she’d set hers on fire when she’d… 

“The night… and the dream… were long.”

Vivian flinched, shrinking herself down as much as she could before glancing behind her. A man sat on his own stretcher bed, dusting off his broadbrimmed, floppy grey hat and heavy woolen coat. He had a funny accent. Brass gauntlets… he didn’t seem the type for fisticuffs. 

And one other thing. “Uhh… isn’t that a tad too tight?” Vivian pointed to the belt around his left leg.

“Stops the beast-blood reaching my heart. Corruption spreads sinister.” He grinned. His teeth were yellow and crooked. 

Vivian cringed. “Haven’t you… thought of seeing a doc about that? What kind of infection could your Aura not… y’know, make it bugger off?” 

“The Grimm blood.” He made a snarling breath that virtually misted the air, then chuckled. “Ah… it smells so sweet, does it not? We are made men by it, born of it. Undone by it.” He cackled then, high pitched and piercing, like a witch. 

She shuddered, chills running down her spine. “Bloody tosser…” she grumbled, curling her arms around her legs and hiding her face behind her knees, rocking back and forth lightly. 

It hadn’t been real. Wasn’t… wasn’t a big deal, right? 

-.-.-

_ You felt yourself slipping away in them. You lost your anchor. You were left to leave her to survive while you fell into the darkness.  _

_ You faced your demons.  _

_ And they didn’t kill you. Strange, how death that shrouds your soul couldn’t find its purchase on your heart. It has lost its sting. Strength from pain, from death, from failure.  _

_ Isn’t that how it’s always been for you? _

-.-.-

Aphoth woke, still feeling horns in her throat, claws scraping her sternum, teeth in her leg. For a moment she reached for the dead - and found none. A dream, then? She was - she was on a bed, she was tied down where  _ was _ she? 

Panic wasn’t helpful. She’d learned that by now. Don’t panic, assess. 

White ceiling. TSOs. Still at Atlas Academy then. But - 

Where was Ash, where were the others, were they  _ safe _ ? The medical personnel suggested that it hadn’t been a dream, hadn’t been fake, not entirely, not really. She thrashed a little, testing the restraints, and a TSO approached. 

“I have to see her.” She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice, tried not to babble. “I have to see them, are they okay?  Did I save them?” The officer moved and she saw - she saw  _ Ash _ , she was unhurt and she couldn’t feel her spirit so she  _ was _ alive but how she’d seen her die, but it was fake, but she was so still and everyone else was awake - 

It was only when the armoured redhead loomed over her that she realised she’d said some of that out loud. “Everyone here is alive.” She growled it. “In various stages of waking up from the same Dream you were in. Calm down, take deep breaths, stop panicking.”

Good - good advice. Centre herself. 

She closed her eyes for a second, focused on keeping her breaths even. Feeling the rough white material of the camp bed under her, the leather straps done up tightly but not too tightly, not tightly enough to hurt smelling - had someone vomited? 

She opened her eyes again. Better. She felt - better. 

The - supervisor? - armoured woman was gone, moving over to a different bed, where a woman in red was thrashing in her sleep - and now she was on fire. So that must have been Vivian.

The straps were coming undone. She looked up, found a TSO impersonally releasing her. She stood slowly, moving over to sit down on the edge of Ash’s bed, stroke her hair, feel her pulse. She was - she was definitely alive. Living. Fine. Not splattered on the ground by a Nevermore’s claws. Not connected to her mind by a thread of frozen starlight, hissing her last words over and over again. 

Alive. 

The others. She had to find the others too. The cat lady, and the person with the crossbows, and poor Slade and stupid headstrong Winter and Maverick. She glanced round the room - there was the faunus, pleading with a TSO for something, crossbow - she thought it was them at least - trying to hug her. 

“Please, I just need to call my sister, I just need to hear her voice, come on, I won’t even say anything, it’ll be like - the world’s dumbest prank call, I just need to hear she’s okay - ”

“Mmmmhhh…” Ash mumbled, turning her head and nuzzling at Aphoth’s hand. “Heyyyy…” She seemed dazed. Tipsy. Groggy maybe? Aphoth sorely hoped she wasn’t still drunk like she’d been in the drea - Dream. 

“Hey you.” Aphoth did her best to smile reassuringly down at her. 

“Hnnn didn’t youuuuuaahahhhhhhhhhh…” it was just like her to cut herself off with a yawn, “Did you… thingy me?” she asked, blinking slowly a few times before rubbing at her eyes and yawning again. 

“Yes. I - you died. In the Dream. I don’t know if you - if you remember that. I didn’t mean to Call you at first, but I was so angry and I was Calling everything I could to avenge you and then you were there and I couldn’t send you away again.”

Ash’s sleepy smile fell a bit. “Hnn yeah… it hurt. It hurt like… thiiiis much.” She held her arms out as far as she could and nearly tripped up a TSO moving between beds. “Ooops. Uhh… got buzzy after that.”

She held out her arms and grabbed Aphoth, using her as a support to sit up and lean against. Now that she was so close… damnit. Aphoth could smell the alcohol on her breath. Still drunk. Ash was - 

“Hey.” She waved at a TSO. “Hey, um, how come none of us have hangovers? And - ” Apoth’s brain ran to a screeching halt as she  _ remembered _ exactly how the dinner had ended. “And, uh. Um. How did you, uh, find some clothes. For me and uh, my friend.”

The officer shrugged. “Aura, lost and found or whatever we could salvage from what was being thrown about. Don’t feel too embarrassed about it, you two were one of at least eight couples that got a little too touchy feely. Happens every year,” he explained offhandedly, before returning his attention to his charge.

“Oh.” Aphoth did her best not to turn bright red. “Um. Who, uh, dressed us. Though.”

“Probably Laura. She’s the one in charge of that sort of thing. There’s nothing to worry about.” 

Aphoth couldn’t tell if he was smiling behind the mask, but he did his best to sound reassuring, at least. When she thought about it, a lot of the staff here would probably have been desensitized to teenage… shenanigans.

“ _ Aphyyyyy, _ ” Ash whined, nuzzling her neck in the most - ahem, she was most definitely bright red now - alarming way. “Why are you so  _ orange? _ ”

Orange? She wasn’t - wait, what was she wearing? She cautiously rubbed the floral patterned top between finger and thumb and tried not to look at it with the distaste she felt. “I - don’t know Ash. I really don’t know.”

She did her best to ignore the TSO’s quiet chuckling. 

-.-.-

_ Home sweet home. A broken wreck. Like you!  _

_ Wait no, not like you.  _

_ Like your life.  _

_ It’s a mess. You’re a mess. You can barely function let alone -  _

_ You can fight. That’s all you have left. Isn’t it? Wheee what a roller coaster!  _

_ Pity, isn’t it. Everything you’ve ever known torn from you and then shoved in your face like a trophy.  _

_ It hurts.  _

_ Doesn’t it. _

-.-.-

Slade lay there quietly, listening to the chaos around him. The last thing - the last thing he remembered before this was his head flying free, seeing Maverick’s face, feeling his head hit the ground, he couldn’t breathe - 

Decapitation was not as painless as some would make it out to be. He curled his fingers and just - 

It wasn’t real. That was good, right? His father, Flynt. They were alive. His swords weren’t broken. He still had his guns. The city was alive and fine. They were all alive. And that was what mattered. The body. Living. 

The blade had been blunted. He could feel it, as if in slow-motion, tearing through the tender flesh of his neck inch by inch. Maverick’s deranged grin, the geist at his back. His life had flashed before his eyes and he’d never thought he’d go like this.

He never even had time to utter a warning, a yell, a scream,  _ anything. _

That was probably what hit him hardest about the whole thing. How  _ quick _ it was.

A life, seventeen years in the making, over in an instant. Everything he’d wanted or thought or dreamed of or hated or liked just - worthless. Chaff. 

He didn’t cry, because boys didn’t cry, but he felt a sharp swelling in his throat. He clenched his fists under the restraints. 

The city had been destroyed, everyone he’d ever known or interacted with was dead. Nobody left to remember him. Nobody left to remember anything. Wiped off the map. Erased from history.

It wasn’t real.

“Hey there, good to see you’re awake.” 

“Mm.” Slade looked up. A TSO - female, he thought, though with the visor it was somewhat hard to tell. His senses were still coming together. 

“Hmm, Slade Coal. Healthy, no abnormal reactions to the Dreaming, brain patterns don’t seem to be completely whacko. How’re you feeling?” she asked. The voice was lighter. There were definitely locks of blonde coming out from under the visor. And there were other indications of the TSO’s gender that he definitely wasn’t looking at as she bent towards him. 

He would say though that this was a good view to come back from the dead to. 

“I’m feeling pretty good, all things considered.”

“Great!” she said, somehow projecting a joyful smile into her voice. “I’ll have you out of these restraints in just a sec,” she mumbled, more to herself than anything as she leaned over him, unstrapping his wrists first. 

Slade thought it was an odd way to do it, standing at the head of the stretcher and leaning over him, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Which meant he almost missed Aphoth coming up behind her. 

“Excuse me. I hear I have you to blame for this shirt.” Her voice was clipped and curt, and she was wearing - well, something that wasn’t very her. Orange shirt, the odd printed rose or bird peering out of the bright fabric, a navy skirt. It looked not half bad though. 

“Hm?” the lady leaning over him looked back over her shoulder, causing her chest to… sway. A bit. “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s the only thing we had that wasn’t… well, I thought it looked good on you. And it’s not small enough to cut off circulation so I consider that a plus!” she explained cheerily.

And she was  _ still leaning over him. _

“It’s floral. Florals make you look like a  _ sofa _ . And is it impossible for you to stand up to have this conversation with me?”

“Juuuust a secon- there!” she finally stopped fumbling with his right cuff - something he suspected might have been deliberate - why would she do that though? - and finally stood up, bracing her knees on either side of his head. 

As much as he was enjoying this, it was a bit too much. He very carefully sat up, working on the ankle restraints himself so he could cross his legs. He could still hear Aphoth’s calmly furious voice behind him. 

“And orange is a colour that works  _ only _ on people with a darker skin tone - ”

“I think it looks alright.” 

The two of them turned to look at him. Slade scratched the back of his head. 

“The shirt, I mean. The pattern’s a bit - eh, but the colour kind of pops, with your hair and stuff. Contrasts with your eyes a bit. And it’s got some good shaping at the waist.” 

The TSO  _ squealed _ and clapped her hands giddily. “EEE!!! I  _ love _ fashionista students! You can help me redress her next time she passes out post-makeout!” 

Slade blinked. “I’m… going to free myself and go find the possessed person who murdered me now.”

Aphoth was bright red and more than a little stunned. “Uhh... yeah… I’m going to just… bye.” 

Thank god that was over.

On to the mission at hand… He cracked his knuckles. 

That ass had better be around here somewhere.


	22. Revelations Part II

-.-.-

_ And you. So righteous in your hatred. So firm of opinion.  _

_ You won’t change anything like that. Give and take - but that’s never been your way, has it? Take, and take and take, from your father, and your trainer, and your friends until you found a new one to latch on to. And you know it, too.  _

_ The mask is cracking. We can see the rot beneath. We’re coming for you.  _

-.-.-

He felt like laughing. 

Actually, most importantly, he felt  _ not dead. _

God _ damn _ shooting his own head off had hurt. Like a ten out of ten on the bad ideas list. 

He smiled though. Because he was still alive. And that meant…

“I was fucking  _ right. _ ” 

“Broad self congratulations upon waking up. Guess we’ve got another megalomaniac.” 

He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet. “Oh yeah? Get a lot of those come through here, huh?” he asked, chuckling to himself. Man it felt  _ good. _ Well, being alive was good, but being  _ right? _ Over the goddamn Ice Queen herself? 

It almost couldn’t compare. 

… That was a lie. Living was definitely better.

He probably should have stopped grinning like a shark right about now but he was having  _ far _ too much fun with this. 

“Yup. Mostly the Dream breaks them. Some it makes them. Those are the ones who generally end up dead after their first year of actual combat, or end up going rogue, or drooling in a mental asylum, or slaughtering their families because they ‘sounded like Grimm’. You know. Standard crazy shit. Open your eyes so I can check pupil response?”

He didn’t stop grinning but managed to peel his eyes open. Caked sleep was a bitch on the eyelashes after all. “Breaks them, huh? I must be a special case.”

The TSO leant over him. “Nope. Just another teen with aura. Pupil response ok, you’re good to go.”

Maverick Blinked, standing up and stretching before they had time to say sit still. Dead in combat? Nah. Rogue? He sure hoped not. Drooling in a mental asylum?  _ Maybe _ . Slaughtering his family?

That ship had sailed a long time ago.

“You fucker.” Wait, he knew that voice, who was - 

Someone punched him. 

He staggered back, head reeling as he tripped over a bed, landing sprawled on his back. “God _ damnit, _ Slade!” he growled, shifting his nose back into place as he sat up. “The fuck was that -”

“You killed me. Seemed fair - ”

Then two TSOs tackled them and everything went sideways again. 

What the hell was up with everyone?! It was a  _ dream. _ Though, getting killed hurt and he remembered the ice on his back and the hoarse whispering in h-  _ kill them move move kill them all slice them eviscerate them MAKE THEM PAY you know they deserve - _

A chill ran down his spine. Don- don’t think about - 

The worst part?

_ It had a point. _

“Calm down, the pair of you. Do we need to slap the restraints back on? No? Okay.” The arms relaxed from round him, and he could see Slade being released too. 

“Greaaat…” Maverick muttered, grabbing his jaw and working out the stiffness. “You know that  _ wasn’t me _ , right?”

God he wished he was right.

_ You could kill him so easily just take out your gun - _

He shook his head, shuddered a little. Yeah. He could. But why  _ should _ he?

_ He’d do the same - _

OKAY, ignoring the creepy voice for now and saving the plans to kill everyone he meets for later.

“I know it wasn’t you. And whoever made the dream - I’m going to punch them in the face too. Just you were the first at hand.”

Maverick rolled his eyes. “Great. Nice to know I’m appreciated as a punching bag, if nothing else.” He shrugged his shoulders, standing up and stretching again. “I’ve got just the slightest feeling the General won’t let you punch him though.”

Water under the bridge water under the bridge  _ just forget about it. _

His lips twitched for the slightest moment.

Slade sighed, slapped a hand on Maverick’s shoulder. He did his best not to Blink away. “Well, we’d best find the others then. Make sure they’re - relatively okay.” He frowned. “Who put you down, anyway?”

Maverick’s face twisted into a horrifying amalgamation of a grimace and a grin. “That… might have been me. To be fair I nearly murdered the Ice Queen first before she impaled me on some ice and the Geist  _ finally _ decided to fuck off.”

He could still hear it’s final whispers, echoing inside his skull like the pleadings of a dead man.

“Might have?”

“It got a little bit fuzzy after I pulled the trigger.” Maverick shrugged. “Now, where’s that ice-cold bitch? I’ve got a little something to goad over her.”

He shouldn’t be so gleeful about this. About how soon he’d figured it out. 

A dream? A simulation? He would have cackled if he wasn’t so worried about people thinking him insane. Seriously, him? A future megalomaniac? Psh, he was probably just going to… wrong line of thought. Everything in that world had been sheer  _ wrong. _ Aura didn’t heal broken bones over the course of minutes. Fatigue was all over the place.

What he’d told Slade about how often he could Blink? True, very true. But it  _ wasn’t _ in there. Not until he’d outright said it. Half his arsenal was missing, and he couldn’t even fit anything extra into the holsters. And the  _ Screamer Flares? _ Good lord were those a surprise. 

A surprise he was more than capable of taking advantage of.

Ah, there she was! Standing up from her bed, and of course taking the time to fix her hair. Winter’s eyes narrowed as she looked over at him. 

“You.”

Maverick grinned, held out his arms like he wanted a hug. “Me!” he laughed. “Guess what, Ice Queen;  _ I was right. _ ” 

He really should be less cruelly happy about this.

“About it being a dream? Evidently.” She brushed off the edge of her skirt. “I didn’t notice the inconsistencies at the time. You know. Like most people don’t when they’re dreaming.”

“I literally pointed them out to you like three times.” 

“Which you also did to Slade, Aphoth, and Ash. Yet, you don’t seem to be gloating at them, do you? Is someone a little upset that I saw you screaming and crying before you blew your - ” Winter took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I crossed a line there, and I apologise for that. Regardless, no-one other than you noticed it was a dream. Congratulations.”

“Hey, don’t feel too bad.” Maverick grinned, ignoring the jab at his rather fragile emotional state after being possessed and convinced into killing the only people he knew that even barely tolerated him these days. “I’m only gloating over you because it’s fun.” 

He laughed at the glare she sent him.

He wondered if the girl even  _ knew _ the phrase  _ ‘Putting on a brave face.’  _

“Oh come on, Slade’s already punched me and I haven’t even found any of the others yet.”

He was having far too much fun. Adrenaline in his veins. He was getting jumpy. Hands shaking.  _ He could kill them all so easily - _ NO, no. No he couldn’t. Slade and his clones were too close-  _ Blink away - _ Ice Queen had her Dust supplies back, and she was tenfold more capable with them than without -

“Stupid shirt, stupid shirt - Maverick! Are you okay?”

Necrocutie sounded alright, given how he’d last seen her - oh shit what was she wearing? 

“What are you  _ wearing?! _ ” he exclaimed, his eyes nearly bulging out as he held up a hand to save himself from the horror of it. Mockingly. “It’s - it’s so bright - aargghh I’m blindeeedddd!” 

Slade smacked him upside the head for that one. 

“It wasn’t my decision! Blame Booby McGiggles-a-lot who woke up your friend there.”

Winter blinked twice. “What.”

“Laauuuuuuraaaaaaa!” 

“Ashie!” 

Maverick stopped laughing and stared as Rockstar threw her arms around a particularly female TSO and got an equally enthusiastic response. “What.” 

“I thought you were dead!” 

“It was a dream!”

“Why are you here, though?!”

“I  _ work _ here!” 

“Whaaaaaaaaaat? I thought you were in fashion stuff!” 

“I’m uhh not supposed to tell you I work here? Cos you aren’t allowed to expect special treatment or anything because you have family that works here.”

“I thought you were deaaaaaaaaad!” 

“Maybe you should lie down - ASHIE NOT ON ME!” 

Maverick chuckled, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Well… that was… a thing. I guess.” He took another look at Aphoth. “Orange, though. Jokes aside, seeing you in something bright is actually kinda nice.”

“Thanks.” She blushed and fiddled with the hem of her shirt a little. “Seeing you again is nice too. Now I should go separate Ash from Booby, who’s apparently her sister I’ve never met.”

“See ya.” He waved to the retreating bright goth. “So… how’d the rest of you guys die while I was off on my own?” 

_ Do it now the back of her head is right there it’d be so easy to put a bullet in her - _

His face twisted in displeasure for a moment. Of all the people that fucking Geist urged him to kill, Aphoth was the one he was most disdainful about. Maybe that was a sign, if the Geist really wanted to feed on his despair it’d urge him to kill those he felt the most about first. 

Right?

Maybe he was - no, he was  _ definitely  _ reading into it too much.

…

She had a cute butt though.

-.-.-

_ Deals deals deals. _

_ You were never a businessman. Yet you keep doing this to yourself. Weighing benefits with cons. Maybe you’re a betting man…  _

_ Because that’s all you’re doing. Making your bets, spreading all your eggs into separate baskets.  _

_ You can’t afford to be wrong. _

_ But when you take every option there… _

_ Well.  _

_ Something has to give. _

-.-.-

Waking from one of Weaver’s dreams was as fast as ever. One moment he was watching the bombardment of an Omega solution commence, the first nuclear detonations turning Atlas into black shadow and rubble, the next he was lying on a simple Atlesian camp bed, muscle memory already rolling him off it and standing him up. 

Ironwood could hear the chaos from next door. The potential applicants, waking up. They’d be distraught. Terrified. And with good reason. The guilt surged, hot and swelling in his stomach - but he quashed it. If what was coming was coming, they needed to be ready. He couldn’t have soldiers who didn’t know what might happen. What the worst was. 

What they needed to stop. 

Helia remained unmoving on the bed opposite. 

He blinked. Took a sitrep of the room. 

It had been absolutely  _ destroyed. _ There were marks all over the walls, stripped and shredded sheets blanketed the floor like snow. He frowned, put a hand up to his eye. It stung. The mirror on the far wall was shattered. The alarm clock he’d placed on the shelf above him was on the ground in pieces. 

That… was unexpected. 

Then again, given her reactions to what he’d said - 

He sighed. The good Doctor had been very - reticent, on what she was capable of. And it had taken every piece of Ironwood’s considerable authority, and rage, to stop him from flying down to the Academy right away to ‘reclaim’ his subject. 

He  _ wouldn’t _ let that happen. He would  _ never let that happen _ . 

“Miss Helia.” She was awake, even if she wasn’t acting like it. “I - have a personal matter to attend to. Your friends are in the other room when you want to rejoin them.”

She rolled over to face the wall. 

Perhaps not yet, then.

He took a moment to adjust his uniform, then strode out through the back door, hit a secret section of the wall, and entered a code that changed every five days. He was lucky to have remembered the new one - he’d almost missed the message that would have deleted itself from his scroll within minutes, but Glynda had pestered him in that charming way of hers - 

He smiled a little to himself. Then frowned. She… wouldn’t approve of this. She knew about it. But this would have been her first time seeing it. 

He foresaw a long argument in his future. 

The room he entered was dark, lit only by the odd green light and glimmering screens displaying rolling sheets of data. TSOs sat at monitors, carefully compiling, translating and dissecting it, ready to be sent to the instructors for further analysis on problem students to look out for. 

And at the centre of it - 

He knelt by the green coffin, pressed a button on the side. “Hey there, Dreamweaver.” There were wires and cables feeding into it, trailing all the way up the walls. The light pulsed softly, like a heartbeat. 

A noise that might have been a muffled voice, then text printed across the small screen on the sarcophagus. 

_ Did I fall asleep? _

“For a little while.” He kept his voice even, gentle. “You’ve got to stop nodding off. It’s your big day today.”

_ I just feel so tired James. It’s all so tiring. My head hurts. I think _ . 

“Hey, you know the rules. And I’m sorry to hear about your headache.”

_ Sorry Colonel. Um.  _ A pause.  _ Why can’t I see you? I can’t - I can’t feel anything but the headache _ .  _ James?  _

Ironwood blinked away a tear. It always hurt. It always hurt so much to see him like this. He gestured and one of the TSOs starts administering the sedative. “It’s okay, Rick. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay. Just rest now. I’ll stay with you until it’s time. It’s okay.”

So much reassurance. 

“Sir, the applicants are becoming agitated.”

“They’re always agitated after the Dream.” Ironwood sighed, lowered his head. “You know the event horizon. Report in again if it reaches that. let them sort out their disputes themselves for a few minutes. I imagine my presence would be… somewhat upsetting.” After a pause, he said, “If it doesn’t reach the horizon, I trust the attending staff can handle it.”

He sat there, one hand on the tomb. “I’ll talk to them soon. Soon.”

-.-.-

_ The ice is melting. No. Not melting.  _

_ Breaking. _

_ Is it everything you thought it would be? The fame, the rush, the killing.  _

_ This is the path you choose to go down. This is the path you choose to run from.  _

_ I would say it doesn’t matter, but it does.  _

_ The difference between death and life, one might say.  _

_ But choices branch. They fracture. They crack. Split. Diverge.  _

_ So… many… paths. _

_ Pick the right ones. _

-.-.-

It still felt so close to real. Like at any moment it would rupture and tear like paper and the Grimm and the blood and the death would come surging back. Like the bright lights and brittle jokes, and notably more revealingly clad TSOs couldn’t, couldn’t ever hold back the surge of darkness. 

It was a dream, right? There weren’t that many Grimm out there. They weren’t like that really. 

There were more and they were worse. 

How could anyone stand it? Knowing that, trying to fight it? Winter wanted to vomit. 

They’d never told her - never warned her of what they were  _ truly _ like. 

“So… how’d the rest of you guys die while I was off on my own?” Maverick asked, rocking back and forth on his heels as he stuck his hands in his pockets. 

“You know how I died,” she said. She tried to keep the bitterness out of it. Tried. She could still feel phantom pain in her ribs. And the way he’d gloated at her - 

No. They’d have to work together, possibly. Holding a grudge was inimical to that. 

“Fairly sure you actually outlived me.” Maverick pointed out. “You might have bled out a few minutes after I suicided,” how could he just say that so  _ casually? _ “Ooor maybe a gryphon came out of nowhere and squashed you.” He shrugged, smiling. As though it was all just a game to him.

“There was a bright light at the end. But… I think I bled out. Yolona was still alive though.”

Aphoth approached, arm around Ash. She was looking at the two of them as though she might have to dive in between them again. “I threw myself into a suicide attack to hem the Grimm in towards them for a killzone. Seemed to work… not too badly. I hope.”

Ash flopped more into Aphoth’s arms. “And I died before you left. Hooray for dying!”

Winter sighed and shook her head, giving the girl a flat glare. It was evident that she was still quite intoxicated.

“Uh, yeah, about that… I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed your axe.”

“Meh. I was dead.” Ash giggled, stumbling a little and falling down on Winter’s stretcher, pushing into Winter’s legs. Shit, she was going to fall - she stumbled backward, the world swaying slightly, landed on the bed. 

Arms wrapped round her. Winter stiffened. 

“You need hugs.” Ash decided, her grip tightening around Winter’s torso. Even through her combat gear she could  _ still feel Ash’s face pressing into her back.  _

“Helia will be here soon for that - ” Wait, where was Helia? Where had she been in the dream? She’d seen her at the end - unless that was simply a product of her ‘dying’ mind? And - oh, she’d  _ said that out loud. _

She didn’t dare glance up at the others. Maverick grinning from ear to ear, Slade trying to stifle his laughter, Aphoth… Aphoth-ing. Winter’s face was probably the colour of Red - 

Blue. 

She’d let Blue die. 

She’d taken Blue’s weapon. 

Suddenly she wanted to vomit again. 

Ash squeezing her stomach didn’t help. 

“Ow, ow, ow, ow.” 

“Mine.” 

_ Helia! _

Ash quickly slipped away, replaced with Helia climbing into her lap like an oversized pouty child. Winter managed a small smile as they wrapped arms - and wing - around each other. It felt… familiar. After the discordant mess they’d all been through, familiar was something she needed.

“Aww, lucky, you get the cute one!” Ash whined at her. 

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short,” Maverick winked at the the petulant, cuddly drunkard. “You’re positively adorable.”

“One might even say cute,” Slade added.

All this was background of course. The main thing was Helia. She was here. She was okay. 

“Where we you? You weren’t there. You weren’t with us.” She said it quietly. “I was concerned.”

“I was watching.” Helia whispered, nuzzling Winter’s neck. Her blindfold was ruffled and dirty. “Wanted to say something. Couldn’t.”

“You’re here now. You’re okay. That’s - that’s good. I missed you. I mean - I - ”

Helia smiled into her collar. Gave her a little kiss. 

Winter stiffened, absolutely sure steam would start whistling out her ears at any moment.

“I - ”

“Students. Or, potential students rather.” 

Someone talking, someone important. Everyone else was silent. She carefully sat up, one arm still around Helia. Looking for the person speaking, to see what was happening. General Ironwood was standing in the doorway, wearing a casual turtleneck. His face was haggard. Not falling away into the snow from a Grimm’s mouth. 

“I imagine you have a number of questions. I am going to try, briefly, to provide answers.”

Helia whimpered quietly, shrinking into Winter’s embrace.

She narrowed her eyes.

They’d better be good.


	23. Revelations Part III

-.-.-

_ Somewhere, out there, lies your fate.  _

_ Sometimes you are the victor. _

_ Sometimes she is.  _

_ But you never make it out alive. _

_ Run, run, as fast as you can. _

_ Destiny has a funny way of tying things together, after all. _

-.-.-

Ironwood folded his arms, and sighed. Which wasn’t, in Winter’s opinion, a good way to begin giving answers. 

“I will start by apologising. This - action I have taken, this Dream you have been through is - crude. Barbaric, even. But, it is the most effective way to show you what it means to be a Hunter. When you came to this Academy, you likely had notions of heroism, of fame, of a certain measure of doing good and notoriety.” His arms crossed behind his back. 

“This is not the case. Being a Hunter is - mind wrecking decision after mind wrecking decision. The ruthless calculus of human lives. And knowing that whatever you do, some day something worse may come along and you will not be there to stop it. But you have to try. No matter how many you know, or love, have fallen, you have to press on. As soldiers. It’s a hard and cruel lesson to learn. But you  _ have _ to understand it. Hence - this.”

A large red-headed woman strode up next to the General, one hand resting on a large, vicious looking sword at her hip. She nodded to him respectfully, as though seeking permission to talk. 

Ironwood dipped his head slightly. “Go ahead, Valkha.” 

“Thank you, sir.” The clanking of her armour was deafening in the silence. “To be a Hunter is to give up civilian life. While I am sure many of you know this already - some of you even counting on it - initiates never truly realise to what degree this matters. The Dream is to show you what happens if you fail. If the Hunters out in the wild exterminating Grimm fail. If the Kingdom’s defences fall. You will be Humanity’s first, and last, lines of defence against the Grimm. You will only achieve this by dedicating your entire lives to your work. Have you ever heard of a retired Hunter?” 

Some heads shook. A negative whisper or two.

“That’s because there are none.” Valkha’s face hardened. “You either die in action, or you live long enough to raise the next generation. Neither Humanity nor we have the time nor dedication to spare to anything less.” She took a deep breath. “Hunters will never know peace. We take this burden to ensure that others do not need to.”

Ironwood stepped forward again. “Not everyone can handle that. Not everyone should be able to. If the Dream, if this knowledge is too much, you can leave. No-one will fault you for that. No-one.” His voice was soft. “Should you choose to depart or not, you will have full access to medical treatment before your departure. Therapy, anything else should you need it. There will be a full week of recovery before classes begin, should you decide to stay. And - one last thing.” Ironwood frowned again. “I do not necessarily  _ endorse _ this, but the method we use to share the Dream will make it… difficult to speak about to those who do not already know about it. If you leave this Academy, it is likely that your memories of it will fade within a month. This is preferable in a number of ways. We would be grateful if you would not even try to speak of the Dream to others, and must insist you sign documents to indicate this.”

“What the public knows of a Hunter’s life is not the reality of a Hunter’s life.” Valkha stated. “The glamour, the heroics, the flash, it is all designed to desensitize the public. The Grimm feed on despair. Have you ever wondered  _ why _ we turn them into board games and action figures? Ignorance. Ignorance is bliss. The Grimm aren’t attracted to  _ bliss. _ It is a delicate balancing act. Do not break it.” 

Ironwood sighed. “This is, in the end, what you signed up for. I know it’s not what any of you expected, but I can’t accept anyone not knowing what it is they’re getting into.”

TSO’s were moving through the crowd, holding out scrolls or data pads of some kind for everyone to sign. One was approaching this little group.

Winter was - she didn’t know what to think of what Ironwood had said. It made sense. The same kind of cold hurting sense Father used sometimes. She buried her face in Helia’s shoulder instead. 

She was quiet. “All this… for the greater good…” 

Winter opened her eyes and looked up at Helia. She’d - she hadn’t ever heard her say anything with that much quiet rage, that much sheer venom. “It - it hurts, but it is still good, though. Right? It’ll help other people?”

The muscles in Helia’s jaw twitched - she was clenching her teeth, starting to shake. The small Faunus pulled away, out of the embrace, clenching her fists. Why would - Winter tried to reach for her briefly, to pull her closer - 

“Miss? Sign here please.” A pad was placed in front of her, drawing her attention away for a moment too long as she scribbled her signature and pushed it away. 

Helia was gone. 

What had Winter done? What had she said? 

Or maybe - it was just Ironwood’s speech. It was tough news to hear, was all. And - and a faunus would want to be outside to think about it, in the fresh air. That was it. Helia would be back. 

And even if she wasn’t, so what? Winter’s purpose here was to help Atlas and humanity. Not worry about some girl. She was being selfish. Yes, she was being selfish. 

If only that aching feeling deep in her chest would follow the script.

“Great, trauma therapy.” Maverick sighed. “Honestly not what I was expecting on my  _ first day here. _ ” 

“Ash, are you sure you’re sober enough to be signing this?”

“Like… yeah! Probably. I ‘unno. Yeah? Not like I’ve got anybody to talk to about it other than you guys. Aphyyy~”

“Ash, you’re - Excuse me sir, but my friend’s still inebriated. Can we maybe delay her signing until she’s more coherent?”

“I’ll have to ask the General but she can’t leave Academy grounds until this is signed.” 

“That makes sense.” Slade rubbed his hair. “Is - that okay, Ashlyn?”

“Whatever…” Ash slumped against Winter, obviously giving up. “Hey, what happened to - to… birdiegirl? I forgot her name.”

“I’m not sure where she is. She’s probably thinking about things. About, um. Whether to continue, or not.”

“Are you sure?” Maverick asked, raising his eyebrows in some half-witted display of concern. “She looked  _ pissed. _ ” 

“Well, the situation is somewhat upsetting. So - anger is understandable.” Winter gritted her teeth. “I’m staying, though. I’m staying.”

“Same.” Maverick grinned. “Whattaya say, Deathstroke, ready for four years and a life of flaming ballistic hell?” he chuckled, nudging Slade with his elbow. Winter honestly had to wonder where a nickname like  _ that _ had come from.

“I - think so. I understand what they’re saying.”

“Rockstar? Necro-cutie?”  _ Where did all these nicknames come from? _

Ashlyn’s… musical methods could lead to Rockstar. Aphoth raised the dead and was… vaguely cute… ish… Winter supposed, so that would be Necro-cutie. She herself was Ice Queen because of the cold associated with the season winter, and her status as heiress. She was sure of it.

Aphoth bit her lip, her eyes flicking across the group, then - “I’m not sure. I need - to think about it. But I think I’ll stay. I don’t know.”

“I’m stayin’!” Ash slurred, trying to throw her hand into the air and only succeeding in falling down behind Winter again. “Mmm, cuddly.” 

Winter tried to pry Ash’s arms off her. “Not right now. And - perhaps you should wait until you’re in the appropriate frame of mind to make such decisions.”

“But cuddly is a good idea!” 

Maverick made some ungodly chortling sound. “And the Ice Queen starts building a harem!” 

Winter’s eye twitched as she turned to Maverick, hand curling into a fist at her side. 

-.-.-

_ Why why why HOW COULD SHE JUST - _

Her teeth hurt. So did her jaw. Her palms were bleeding. She need to trim her nails. They were dirty. If she used her teeth she’d get sick and wouldn’t be able to set the path right. 

She could start a second path but she’d worked  _ so hard _ on this one it just wasn’t worth -

_ Make her burn make her SEE why the ‘Greater Good’ HURTS - _

No no no no she - she was on this path for a  _ reason _ and while yes she had forgotten what that reason was in the heat of the moment it just  _ hurt  _ so  _ badly _ hearing her just - just -  _ DISMISS _ every SINGLE THING she - what - 

She wished she could stomp down the halls but she didn’t have enough weight nor strength for it. 

_ Kill the ‘doctor’ break his ‘science’ obliterate his - _

She had to -

_ Tell Ironwood - green - go into detail of the worst things - greenred - tell him what the ‘doctor’ doesn’t want told - black. Black. Why black because you die before he can take action - _

Okay so  _ that _ was a bad idea…

It still hurt. 

And it wasn’t going to stop.

_ Get food - green - avoid her - red - _

WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE SO CONFLICTING?! She just wanted  _ peace _ and - and -

She let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, let her hands fall to her sides,  _ relax. _ The small swarm of metal slivers she’d accumulated on accident, walking down these clear halls, tinkled to the ground like a burst of rain. She should clean them up. She needed to. Brush them into a ball, compress them into a plate, leave it on the floor. 

They’d put it in the vents over an exposed series of wires, preventing a stray, lost Vespyr from crawling through the system and eating them, causing months of security problems as they failed over and over and  _ over _ to find the solution.

Maybe she shouldn’t. Maybe she should  _ let _ the problem happen, leading to Grimm infestations throughout the city and the Academy. Students dead, staff killed in their sleep, no source found. No source  _ to _ be found. The doctor would get his due death at the hands of a Beowulf.

But then - 

Boarbatusk gets loose from containment in Professor Shroud’s laboratory. Winter dies. 

She didn’t  _ care _ about that right now. Didn’t care about the tusks punching through her chest, out the other side, spitting blood and phlegm, the funeral, the little girl in white crying on her coffin - 

A moment. That was  _ aallll  _ it took. She wondered. 

Winter didn’t matter right now. 

Maybe she could corrupt the smaller one. They were similar. Almost mirror images of each other. Her big sister had gotten them mixed up. But her hate of Faunus would run deeper. It’d become a core part of her once she found out it was  _ her _ fault. 

She could just kill them. 

But that was no fun. 

She held the freshly compacted plate in her hands. Searched through her Semblance - what was the most violent way she could stick it in it’s place?

There wasn’t one. 

A small dent was acceptable. Two deaths. Irrelevant to her. 

She screamed, threw it down the hall. The corner folded as it hit the door, falling with a painfully loud metal rattling. 

The loud girl would never forgive her if she found out. Winter would notice the guilt eating at her and force her to spit it out. Her sister was dead because of her  _ WHY?! WHY AM I SO CARING?! _

It  _ shouldn’t matter. _

It was for the greater good.

She sighed. Why was she even so  _ mad _ at Winter for - oh, right, for thinking it was  _ right _ to do because it  _ helped people. _ So what if it helped people? They’d put her through  _ years _ of  _ endless tests. Pain. Torture.  _

All in the name of the greater good. 

The folded corner creaked and smoothed itself out. 

No deaths now. 

No death. 

She was hungry. The kitchens would help her. Two lefts. One right. Straight ahead. Down the stairs. She’d collapse on the fourth flight. Wouldn’t be found for three hours. Black path. 

Find Winter. Let her grumbling stomach be heard. She’d carry her down, they’d talk it out over food. Fix things. Pain. So much pain. Red. Red. Green. It would hurt but she wasn’t sure it was worth it. 

Find Ironwood. Bad. BaD IDEA. Black path. She had to - had to avoid the General. He wasn’t capable of accepting her words yet. His actions - they wouldn’t hurt her. They would help her. But the  _ reaction _ to them… it hurt her. It hurt her  _ bad. _

Find… a staff member. A… TSO? She forgot what they were called. Mixed… mixed path. Too many branches. Her head started to hurt, and she whimpered, sitting down on the cold metal. She could feel it through her robes. 

Robes. A fancy name for the first oversized sheets she could find and cut into something vaguely wearable. She felt lucky. But she, of all people, knew luck didn’t exist. Coincidences could exist. It was all about opportunities. Observation. 

You had to see the chance to take it. 

And she saw everything. 

Sit here. Do nothing. She’d be found within minutes. Questioned about the metal plate. Suspect - wait this was  _ bad _ . She needed to move she needed to move  _ now. _

But  _ where _ ?! The kitchens were bad Ironwood was worse Winter was - 

She hissed. 

Too many paths. Not enough time. No good ones. 

_ Winter it is. _

-.-.-

_ You’re starting to show your true colours. _

_ Don’t. _

-.-.-

“Aww, c’mon, why’re you so mad?” Maverick chuckled, ducking backwards from Winter’s fist. He wasn’t going to fall to her  _ again. _ Through, to be fair, last time he hadn’t been expecting it. Blocked the second strike with his forearm, knocked it off course. 

She’d over-extended. Thrown too much of her weight into the punch. Maverick quickly brought his knee up and struck her in the gut before pushing her away by the shoulders. 

She was a swordstress, not a boxer.

“Uhhh shouldn’t you be stopping this?” Rockstar asked as Valkha pulled her stretcher bed away - with her still on it. 

“It’s a lesson I cannot teach.” she replied simply. “Clear a space!” she ordered, grabbing Winter’s elbow and hauling her bodily to her feet. 

Maverick laughed. “Oh this is gonna be  _ gold. _ ” A boxing match with the  _ Ice Queen? _ He wondered if Semblances would be overkill here. Better to wait until she used hers first.

A crowd gathered around them, forming a little barrier. Just like the underground.  _ Home field advantage, as they say. _

Winter wiped a hand across her face, then adopted a loose stance that looked like something out of a shitty action movie. God, this was going to be embarrassingly easy. 

He brought his arms up, stayed light on his feet. Dancing, dancing, just like Marcus taught him. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face though. Circle her, get a feel for how quick she could react. “Think you have a chance?” he taunted, unable to keep the giddiness out of his voice.

“Do you think you do?” 

Valkha had no problem with this. Everyone around seemed just excited at the prospect of watching another brawl. Maverick just raised an eyebrow at her. “Against a fragile little thing like you?”

“I survived a shot from your dinky little pistol long enough to bleed out.”

“FIGHT ALREADY!” Yolona roared, getting a cheer of approval from the crowd. Maverick sighed and rolled his eyes. Dart forward - god, she wasn’t even throwing up a  _ defence _ \- he had speed to his advantage.

_ Keep moving, don’t stop moving, hit and run, you can get all of them if you do that just knife and run blood spurting from their throats -  _ he ignored the voice as he pressed his attack. 

Which was the moment she ducked low into a handspring kick headed right for his jaw. 

Oh, so  _ that’s _ how it was. He cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. Foot based. Twist to the side, bring up his knee into the backs of hers and - she was curling up into his strike, spinning round into an axe handed double punch - 

He darted back. Kept his centre of gravity low. She was waiting again - better on the defense than the offence, maybe? Or maybe her repertoire of actually good moves was limited. He threw a quick, experimental jab, just to test her response. 

She stepped back. A fencer’s move. Her footwork was neat, but still too close to swordplay - time to punish her for that. 

_ Cut her legs off, femoral artery better than aorta closer to the surface won’t have to cut away as much flesh  _ \- 

Now, for something he knew was fake that voice was getting  _ real irritating _ . 

Another pair of jabs that brought him in closer to her - she went for a high kick but he blocked it with his forearm, hooking his foot behind the back of her other leg, sending her tumbling to the ground. He stepped forward to take advantage of it, but she was already scrambling back, standing. 

How dirty should he fight this? He could probably end this pretty fast if he was a total dick. And it wasn’t like the Ice Queen didn’t hate him already. But… no, the kind of nasty tricks Marcus had taught him were best saved as a surprise. 

She was dashing in again, weaving a little, an almost untelegraphed punch flashing out. It was weak though, and he took it to land two solid blows to her solar plexus. Her response was to use his shoulder for leverage, bringing up a knee strike into his jaw that left his head ringing. 

“Heh… you’re better than I thought,” he chuckled, rubbing at his jaw. “But with expectations  _ that _ low, it's hard not to be.”

Winter simply snorted and adopted that dumb fucking stance again. How she could pull such smooth moves out of it was beyond him. Maybe if he waited a sec - yup, she was going on the offensive. 

He blocked her kick - it was a sloppy block, but it was a sloppy kick - tried for a counter, but she trapped his arm, his world going sideways as she tried to throw him. Instead, he put his foot firmly on the ground, adjusted his grip on her, and when they came down  _ she  _ was slammed into the floor, not him.

_ \- crush her into the ground crush her CRUSH HER _ \- 

He rolled on top of her almost without thinking, and received a quick knee to the groin for his efforts. It had  _ hurt _ \- he’d forgotten that he wasn’t in his combat gear, wasn’t wearing the box he normally wore just to prevent that sort of move. 

The crowd gave a winced  _ oooh _ of sympathy for him. Always gotta be on the lookout for someone sneaking in a quick counter. 

Okay… maybe she  _ did _ deserve one of the finishers Marcus taught.


	24. Strife

-.-.-

_ How dare you. The Schnees. Selfish. Cold.  _

_ For the ‘greater good’? How can you even  _ think _ that? _

_ You family does nothing but take.  _

_ You take lives. _

_ You take dreams. _

_ You take and take and give nothing back.  _

_ No… that’s a lie. You do give back. So, so generously. _

_ You give pain.  _

_ You give lies. _

_ You give us all reason to hate. _

_ And then you wonder why. _

-.-.-

Winter was so far in over her head she’d have needed Aphoth to raise a Wyrm to dig her out. 

She did not know hand to hand combat. She knew a handful of moves that she’d learnt from watching her family’s bodyguards spar, and had religiously learnt to mimic. She knew a bit more from basic combat training, and some other things she’d extrapolated from sword fighting. 

Maverick on the other hand, seemed to know  _ exactly _ what he was doing, and while her first move had thrown him off, he’d kept up at a pretty rapid pace. 

But… she couldn’t back out now. Dishonour on the Schnee name if she did. She’d thrown a fist in anger, stupid,  _ stupid _ mistake. Never attack based on rage - to defend your name or honour, yes, but plan it,  _ think _ . 

She couldn’t win either. She blocked two of Maverick’s strikes as he came in again, but then he locked his hands on her arms, slamming his head into her face hard enough she could hear the fizz of their auras colliding. She tried to wrap her leg round his, pull him down into another grapple, but he simply broke his grip on her and backed away. 

Toying with her.  _ Fuck _ him. 

“Had enough?” he grinned, stepping back casually. He was  _ enjoying _ this.

“Not currently, no.” She’d have to cheat. She’d have to - 

He jumped back off the glyph she’d slapped under him, which erupted into ice. 

The crowd jumped back, many crying out in disbelief, many more erupting into wild cheer. They wanted blood, it seemed. With Semblance, she  _ should _ be able to tip the tide of battle in her favour -

_ Crack. _

A blinding pain in the back of her skull sent her stumbling forward, baring her teeth as she grimaced. She was heading right for - the ice shattered into dust and flakes an instant before she found herself impaled on it.

She tumbled to the floor, doing her best to turn the unsightly stumbling into a roll to get back on her feet.

Shoulder first - 

An unexpected stop as something hard jabbed into her spine - right by the tailbone - and killed her momentum. It was gone as soon as it had appeared but the damage was done. She flopped to the floor, tried to handspring up - 

Her hand was kicked out from under her. Sent sprawling again. There were people  _ laughing _ \- 

She used a glyph this time, and the propulsion was enough to take her over Maverick’s foot. A second gave her a platform to launch herself off in a tackle that, predictably, missed as he teleported away, but gave her time to slip a time dilation glyph under her feet as she landed. Now she’d have enough time to see what he was doing, to react - 

And she found herself shoved into the other side of the makeshift arena - fuck, no he was standing on the glyph, it was activating - she tried to cancel it, tried to do  _ something _ \- 

Pain. A gold blur, zipping from one side of her to another, appearing and distorting and reappearing, and hitting and hitting and hitting and - 

Her aura broke. 

“ENOUGH!” Valkha bellowed, pushing applicants aside and stepping into the arena herself. The golden blur hadn’t landed a single hit since breaking her aura - and thankfully it was fading fast. Valkha frowned slightly as Maverick actually stopped, but otherwise stood her ground. “Here is another lesson.  _ Reason _ comes before  _ any _ action. Reason  _ before _ honour. Reason  _ before _ infighting. If you cannot win,  _ do not engage. _ ” 

“Are you saying…” Winter coughed as she struggled to sit, “That I never had a chance?”

“You were engaging someone trained while you yourself have little to no training. Bringing in your Semblance into an otherwise unarmed match sealed the deal as you have no way to counter it. You were putting yourself at nearly every disadvantage you could.” Valkha explained, hauling her to her feet. “Think before you fight. If you do not, you are inviting failure with open arms.”

Silence for a moment as everyone took it in.

“Cuddlies!” 

“No - Ash - get off!”

The crowd started to disperse after that bracing ice breaker. Winter sat there for a moment, getting her breath back. She put a hand to her head and massaged her brow, certain bruises would be forming all over her body by tomorrow morning.

She wondered why they weren’t getting in trouble for starting a fight. Fights were - undisciplined. But then again, tensions were high and everyone needed a distraction. They had provided one. Morale through beating each other to a pulp. Hm. 

“Need a hand up?” Maverick asked, standing right there and offering his hand. His usual cocky grin had been replaced by a slightly softer one, as though he were capable of such a thing. 

“I’m fine, I’ve got it.” She stood up quickly, brushing herself off, trying to ignore the burn of embarrassment - ticked off by a teacher  _ already _ , already not the best - “You’re a skilled fighter.”

“Eh,” he shrugged it off, “I started training way early. And I had a ratbag teacher. He was good, but man, he was an ass.” His laughter sounded forced. 

Before she could even think any further on the subject, a sharp poke in the buttocks stole her attention. She didn’t squeal, which was her initial impulse, but she did spin around as fast as she could, mouth opening to shout in anger at whoever had  _ dared _ to do this - of course it was Helia. 

“Food please,” she said quietly, holding her arms up and out, demanding a hug without a word. 

Winter carefully wrapped her arms around her, lifting her up. She could still feel her bones through her robe, her little fluttering wings. 

She gestured to one side. “Maverick, I have to - ”

He laughed and waved them off. “Have fun, Snow Angels.” 

Kitchens - there had to be kitchens somewhere, and she needed to talk to Helia about why she’d left earlier, but that could wait. Directions from a TSO, long corridors, and then they were in a pale white workspace, burners and ovens lining the walls. 

She set Helia down on one of the marble counters. “What would you like to eat? I’m - not the best cook in the world. But I know how to make some things.”

“Thank you,” Helia whispered, curling into a ball. Her wing seemed healed, and Aphoth’s dress was missing. “I’m sorry about earlier. But it  _ hurt. _ ”

“I know. Like I said, it - it hurt a lot. What Ironwood said. But it makes sense, in a way. You - I guess you have to try and measure the hurts, however you do that. Or try to predict them. I don’t know. He came to one conclusion about how much pain we’d receive as opposed to the amount we’d prevent.”

“How far are you willing to go for the ‘greater good’, then?” Helia shuffled backwards and started rocking herself back and forth gently. She was playing with something at her temple.

Winter opened the fridge, removed two eggs and some cream. She would make scrambled eggs. They would - they would make things better. She liked them, and she could cook them - yes. “I’m not sure. I think - I think I’d need to make my own conclusion. About balancing the pain. And I don’t think - if it was too much. If I was making a small number of people’s lives  _ unbearable _ . Just to save a larger number. That wouldn’t be alright. But - a little hurt to save a lot in the future, an inoculation… maybe that’s okay.” She began to whisk the eggs and cream together, added a sprinkle of salt. “Uh, do you like your eggs runny or firm?”

There was a cold silence between them, broken only by the ruffling of Helia’s feathers -

Winters hands flew to her mouth. “Oh god, I am so so sorry.” Shit, she needed to get rid of the mixture, where was the sink, where was the sink - “Um, shit, shit, what else do you like to eat? What do you actually like to eat?”

Helia stayed silent for a moment, tilting her head. “Uhm… the… stuff we had last night. You can have the eggs?” she seemed unsure. “I… I can’t stomach them.” How could she be so… apologetic about that? 

“Which stuff - bread? Bread? I can cut you some slices of bread, but, um, I can’t make sausages. Uh… ” Toaster, there was a toaster. “I am so sorry, I didn’t think, most of the stuff I can cook involves eggs - ”

“There’s nothing left over?”

“What?” Winter blinked. “Um. No?”

Helia frowned, pushing herself off the bench and crumpling to the floor for a moment before opening up the fridge for herself, reaching in and pulling out several plastic containers of - the food they’d been eating last night? Wasn’t that unsanitary? 

“That’s - cold. It’ll be less nice. At least let me heat it up.” How did this oven work exactly, she’d never used the one at home, it couldn’t be too hard though… 

A small choking noise distracted her from her thoughts of how it worked. 

“Helia no, what did I say about small pieces of bread!” She patted Helia’s back - gently - then set the loaf down on the counter, trying to cut a slice quickly. “Let me make you some hot buttered toast. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Okay…” Helia slumped to the floor, leaning against the cupboard. “How many lives would you ruin to save millions?”

Well that came out of nowhere. Winter bit her lip as she thought, watching the bread begin to brown. “I said I wouldn’t ruin lives, if it came down to it. A - a little hurt, yes. But ruining is too far. Unless it’s the - the only way. And even then, you’d have to try everything else first.  _ Everything _ . Ruination should  _ never _ be the first step. I - don’t know, I guess? I haven’t had to give it that much thought.”

Apart from father’s business lessons. About how to take apart a rival company, to make its workers hate it, to split it into its components, extract the ones you need and discard the rest. She’d never do that.  _ Never _ . 

Helia removed her blindfold and stuck it on the counter. Winter resisted the urge to look into the eyes that were so much like her sister’s. Helia’s hair was then also deposited on the countertop - 

“What.”

Her hair was - but how hadn’t it fallen off - she’d done a flip at one point, Winter thought, or at least flown in a way that should have sent it flying - and it wasn’t all wispy like wigs normally were it was straight and orderly - 

She looked down at Helia. Her hair had seemed much too healthy to be on someone as sickly as her. That wasn’t even the shocking part. There was a band of metal - of electronics of some kind embedded in her skin around her skull. 

“Helia?” She’d moved over to her without realising it, hand reaching towards the soft pale skin of Helia’s head. “Helia, what happened to you?”

“Something for the  _ greater good. _ ” The venom was back. “H-how many lives…” tears were streaming down her cheeks. She sniffled, wiped her face on her sleeve. 

“Helia… ” She wrapped her arms round her. “What happened to you? What did they do to you?” She knew faunus experimentation was a thing, the results were  _ almost  _ the same as they would be with real humans, but anything involving implants, anything involving implants that left such angry red scars was bordering on unethical. 

“Tests.” Her voice was choked. “So... many… tests.” Her knives clicked in and out of their sheaths, small lights on her… halo, lighting up in synch. 

Winter hugged her tighter. “To control the knives. A weapons prototype test? Which company was it?” Winter pulled back a little. “Tell me, and my father will buy them out within the day, grind them to  _ fucking dust _ .”

“You. You own me.” 

“Wh-what?” What did she mean, that was - it was a non-sequitur, it didn’t  _ make sense _ \- 

“You got an envelope from your father for your last birthday. You still haven’t opened it.” Helia murmured. “There’s a very,  _ very _ specific share of an Atlesian Military R&D branch inside.”

No - this wasn’t - 

Some part of her noticed that the toast was burning. 

Helia smiled a broken smile at her. Her eyes were ghosted over. “So… how many lives, Winter?”

“No.” Winter’s voice was very distant from her. “No, you don’t get to drop that on me, then ask that question again. You - is this why you came to me? Out of some sense of obligation? Because I - ”

She felt sick. She felt physically nauseous. 

Helia’s smile turned dreamy. “I came here for sanctuary.” Her head tilted slightly. “It’s against the treaty to own a Hunter, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have to worry about that now. You - I release you from all paid bonds of indentured servitude you hold to me, pro bono. I assume it was indentured servitude, yes? As slavery is illegal?”

“I wouldn’t recommend doing that.” Helia’s voice was odd. Smug, almost? “They took me once. They can do it as many times as it takes to get what they want from me.”

“Then that’s  _ your problem _ .” She snarled it. She was - she was crying. She’d thought - “I am no-one’s  _ shield _ , no-one’s problem solver and  _ no-one’s owner _ . Find someone else to latch onto and manipulate.”

“So you’d throw me to wolves, not for the benefit of humanity, but instead so you don’t have  _ responsibility. _ ” Helia deadpanned, reaching up to grab her - her wig? Her hair? - and slip it back on. It covered her metal halo snugly.

“You  _ lied to me _ . You made me think you - you just wanted to cuddle up to your meal ticket. Just like everyone else who sees the Schnee name. What, was getting me to cook for you simply formalising it?” A brief glimmer of hope - what if she’d been lying about this, was simply toying with her because she was a vindictive faunus cow - 

“Would you rather your property  _ starve,  _ princess?”

“I have no property. I renounced my ownership of you.” Winter laughed. It was bitter and hurt. “At least now I can see you for what you  _ really _ are. Manipulative. Cold. Angry.”

“ _ Vindictive  _ is the word you’re looking for.” Helia leaned against the cupboard, straight-backed, her head hitting the door with a thunk. “You think I want this? You think I  _ like _ being experimented on,  _ day after freaking day?! _ ” 

She turned to glare at Winter. There was a chilling anger behind her dead eyes. 

“You said you don’t want to ruin any lives for the sake of Remnant. Why are you so willing to ruin them for your own sake?” 

“And I don't want a parasite on my team. I don't want someone  _ using _ me for my position. And you won't return there. You're part of the Academy now.”

“Hmph. If this is how you treat people for trying to be your friend, no wonder you don’t have any.”

“You aren't trying to be my friend.  You're faking it. Using me for my position, my ownership of you.”

“You enjoyed it.”

"Because I thought it was real." The tears were flowing faster now. "I thought - I thought someone might actually like me."

“So why  _ can’t _ I like you?!” Helia demanded. “Yes, you are my legal owner. My Mistress. My Master. Whatever the hell you want to call it. Why  _ can’t _ we be friends? I  _ do _ like you. Maybe not right at this instant but I  _ do  _ like you!”

“Because I can’t  _ trust _ that. Servants have always fawned and claimed to love their kindly masters, because they know that they  _ want _ to be loved. How can I trust that you’re not lying to me?”

Helia hissed and jumped at her, clawing her hands around her throat. “ _WHY WOULD I WANT TO SERVE_ ** _ANYONE_** _AFTER WHAT THEY DID TO ME?!”_

Winter recoiled. “Why won’t you let me  _ free _ you then?” 

“Do you think that  _ matters _ to them?!” Helia pushed away and stumbled across the floor, her shoulders shaking. “I  _ was _ free once. The fact that you own me is the  _ only _ reason, the  _ only way _ I have a path  _ not being there. _ Think of it this way, if you must. By owning me, you have the legal right to tell them  _ no _ when they come to collect me. Because they will. They always collect.” 

Her voice broke off into choked sobbing, hidden behind her knees and wings. 

“So, these are my choices. To own you, never trusting a word that you say, never trusting your feelings, your thoughts - anything. To watch you inevitably grow to resent my control over you. Or free you and watch you be taken away to be experimented on.” Winter felt tired. She felt - she felt so tired. 

“I’m not going to hate you. Not unless you give me a damn good reason to.” Helia grumbled. “I came to you before I realised you owned me. The- the red path. Went in blind and got myself into this mess…” She chuckled. “And you don’t have control. I can promise you that,” she said, her voice just a tad bit more sinister. “Nobody’s going to have control over me  _ ever again. _ ” 

“That’s going to make working in the military somewhat challenging, I would have thought. And you will hate me. It’s an inevitability. I should never have expected anything different.” Winter straightened. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I will not free you. You will not pretend to be my friend. You will come no closer than your feelings - your  _ real _ feelings - allow. Is that an acceptable contract?”

Helia climbed to her feet and stuffed her face into Winter’s jacket, hugging her as tightly as she could - which, Winter noted, wasn’t very tight at all - and nodded. “That sounds good.” 

“Good.” Winter turned, unleashed a glyph that doused the flaming toaster in water. 

“Yeah, I probably should have reminded you about that earlier.” Helia’s voice was still muffled. However the angry gurgling of her stomach was not. 

Winter wanted to forget the conversation they’d had, cut Helia another slice of bread, just - pretend. For a little while longer. But she couldn’t. She could still feel the sickness and paranoia and worry stirring in her stomach. She - could try though. 

“Another slice of toast is acceptable?”

Helia giggled. “Yes,  _ Mistress~ _ ” 

Winter frowned and opened her mouth to scold her - 

“Uhhh…” Aphoth’s voice came from the doorway. “Are we interupt-”

“FOOOOOD!” Ash cheered, bowling past Aphoth and tumbling into the kitchen. “Oh hey you found birdiegirl!” 

Winter and Aphoth locked gazes, reading the panic in each other's eyes. As one, they nodded and silently agreed not to speak of this. Winter hoped. God damn Helia, why had she decided  _ then _ was the best time to call her mistress and why had she made it sound so - so  _ dirty. _

_ It’s a trick to make you forget _ . 

She swallowed, suddenly, turning back to the breadboard. Wholegrain loaf. Nice and healthy. 

“ _ Boop. _ ”


	25. Strife Part II

-.-.-

_ It’s not what it looks like.  _

_ I/you/we swear. _

_ Isn’t that why you cover up everything? Dark hair. It used to be white. Tattoos to cover the pale skin. Torn and ripped, never immaculate.  _

_ The attitude. The poor food, the poor streets, the ‘loser’ friends. _

_ Is it working too well, or not enough? _

-.-.-

Well. She’d expected the Schnees to be kinky - they were filthy rich, and there was a reason that adjective was  _ used _ with the word - but domination play in a kitchen involving a burning toaster was...

She hadn’t ever encountered anything that extreme on her net searches, she’d put it that way. 

Also, Winter was clearly an  _ awful _ domme. The poor girl - Helia, that was her name - was starving. 

Though - she had - she had hurt Apep. And Winter - 

No, she wouldn’t fight. And in the Dream - in the Dream Winter was arguing like an idiot with Maverick, but she was clearly a human being, as hard as that was to remember after years and years. 

“Heyyyyyy, foodies!”

Oh, and Aphoth had her own bundle of joy to deal with. 

Apep stirred around her neck at the noise. She raised a hand to stroke him, while also reaching out to grab Ash’s shirt collar and pull her back from the fridge where she was trying to - 

“That bacon’s uncooked. We can cook it then you can have it.” Apep’s friendly hissing at the idea of raw bacon wasn’t helping - why couldn’t he have gone off and hunted some rats while she was asleep?

Oh. Right. Because his fangs had been cut out. Because of her mistake. By the Schnee’s sub. 

“Don’t want bacon.”

“Okay. What do you want to eat then, Ash?” Aphoth carefully pried the packet from Ash’s hands. If she didn’t want it, then maybe Apep could have a treat… 

“Baaaaaaaaaconnnnnnnnnnnnn.” Ash moaned liked a zombie. 

Aphoth blinked, then sighed. 

“What about this thing?” Helia asked, pulling a block of cheese out by the tips of her fingers and accidentally letting it drop of Ash’s face. 

“Eep!” Ash yelped, dodging just in time. “... cheese is nice.” 

Winter made a face. “It’s processed cheese.”

Aphoth made a face at her. Stuck up bitch. “It’s cheap, and is going to fry nicely. Doesn’t something fried sound good, Ash?”

“YES!” Ash jumped to her feet with a stupid grin on her face. And she was still holding the partially unwrapped block of dented cheese. “Uhh… pan. Needa pan,” she mumbled, and started pulling open every cupboard she could without even looking in them. 

“Ash. Ash!” Goddamn it, she’d forgotten what she was like with  _ any _ alcohol in her system at all and oh god that alcoholic giant wouldn’t know and Ash  _ would _ try and steal from her why had she thought coming here with Ash was a good idea again? “Ash, they have an industrial fryer here, we don’t need a pan.”

“But - awwww…” she slumped down to the floor. Helia crawled over and started braiding her hair. Winter rushed after her. 

“No, Helia, your hands are still greasy from the cheese, you don’t want to get that in Ash’s hair. Your toast’s all ready, don’t you want to have some of that?”

“But the cheese was wrapped and - oh, right. Toast.” Helia mumbled, climbing away. She seemed rather… childish. Even more-so than Ash. Which was a pretty impressive feat. 

“Here we go. All buttered, with just a pinch of salt - no, Helia, don’t use your fingers, use the knife and fork.” Winter gave Aphoth a look. She recognised this one. It meant something like  _ can you believe this shit _ and, for once, Aphoth felt real sympathy for her. 

“But it’s toast.” Helia frowned. “Toast is finger food.”

“If you’re an uncivilised animal, maybe it is.”

Helia unflinchingly took the toast in her fingers and took a long, slow, bite, letting the crunching sound fill the air. The tension was almost palpable. Like the crunch of biting into a strawberry. 

Winter sighed, heavily. “Wash your hands afterwards.”

Meanwhile, Ash was still struggling with the concept of hot oil. 

“Hey… I’m kinda thirsty.” Ash mumbled, draping herself over Aphoth. “Where’d you stick that thing, I know you had that thing somewhere.” And now she was getting very handsy.

“How about I get you a glass of water? Or a bottle of, um, Dust cola?” Aphoth ducked a slight spray of crumbs as Winter patted Helia firmly on the back to dislodge the large bite of toast she’d taken. 

“Dust cola makes me sick…” Ash sighed, moving behind Aphoth and nibbling at her neck. “Remember… whatwasit… that concert we went to? The White Roses?” 

Aphoth gently tried to pry Ash off her. “Yes, I remember.”  _ You got drunk there too, and then vomited on my shoes for the next three days. Oh god, please let this not last three days. _

If only Apep could still bite her. A good dose of his venom usually sent her straight to sleep.

“Mmmm… you’re nyummy…” Ash murmured, nibbling at her earlobe now as her hands started running up Aphoth’s shirt. Her hands were very very warm.

“Ash, now is not the time. You can’t have your bacon if you do that.” Apep was uncurled at the invasion of his resting spot and hissing in her ear and could Winter help or do something other than carefully watching Helia like she was going to shove the whole piece of toast into her mouth at once - wait, that was a possibility, wasn’t it. 

Ash licked her. 

Aphoth was ninety percent sure she was purple now. Which would have matched her dress if she’d still had it - and hadn’t Helia taken it? Where was it? “Oh look Ash, your food’s ready!”

“Oooh, smells nummy.” Ash leaned away - oh god she was going to fall - and tripped on Aphoth’s ankle, tumbling to the floor for the ninth time in the last hour. “Ouchies.” 

-.-.-

Some time later, half the kitchen was covered in fire extinguisher foam, there was a small pile of vomit in one corner from where Helia had tried fried chicken, and the two little brats were curled up in a corner braiding feathers into each other’s hair. 

Aphoth sat slumped against the far wall, breathing heavily. At least Winter was in equally disheveled condition.

“I’m never having children.”

Winter nodded. “Me neither.”

Aphoth laughed. “Our only point of agreement.”

-.-.-

_ Fury. Rage.  _

_ Do you know anything else? _

_ Love. Compassion.  _

_ They were lost.  _

_ Caring. Selflessness.  _

_ You’re struggling to hold on to them. You’re struggling to hold on to their memories.  _

_ Your reminders won’t last forever. Your anchors will rust. Your chains will break.  _

_ And you will be free.  _

_ Free. To be by yourself. Until the end of your days. _

-.-.-.-

_ Punch. _ Another robot flew away in a spray of limbs. Yolona had to admit, they were built tough. Or at least were fairly well braced internally. This particular one had survived twelve full-on punches to the chestpiece without a dent. 

The limbs kept falling off, though. As though they were designed to fall apart instead of crumple. 

It was a nice idea, a reusable, animated training dummy. 

But it wasn’t doing much for Yolona right now. 

She stood her ground, waited for it to reassemble itself, and launched another ‘Spartan’ kick into it’s chest. It went flying with a satisfying crunch. 

For all its toughness, it wasn’t a very smart fighter. But maybe that was a good thing, for now. She didn’t want to fight. She wanted to  _ hurt _ something. 

_ Clapclapclapclap - _ The silent one with the crossbows froze as she turned to glare at him. At least, they looked like a him. She couldn’t be sure from this distance and couldn’t care less, so to her, at least, the mute was a him. 

On one hand, the clapping annoyed her. On the other, that meant she’d gotten a new furthest distance on the corpse in a single strike. 

The tall one - Titian - was there too. And the cat faunus. They were both quiet. 

She wished they’d come down and fight her. The irritatingly stupid robot was beginning to get boring.

Speaking of which, it was swinging at her again. Slow, predictable. Dumb. 

She sidestepped the strike, grabbed the head, and simply yanked it free from the rest of the bot, before throwing it to the far wall. The body collapsed to the ground and started skittering away.

Yolona growled and started pacing. She’d been so  _ close _ to Promethium. 

The woman, Myrrha, had talked to her about that. “ _ Promethium will come in its own time. But now you know how you’ll face it when that time comes; you know how to improve, so you arrive there with highest honours, to make the battle last forever and a day _ .”

It stung though. She’d almost made it. She’d almost  _ been _ there. No amount of preparation or ‘Let Promethium come to you’  _ bullshit _ would make up for that. 

The bot was coming back again. 

She stood there and let it hit her. 

She barely felt it. This thing was a  _ training dummy _ . It wasn’t even capable of scratching her armour, which she had left set up on a stand in the corner of the Atrium. Probably should return to it, clean it. But her mind was still reeling from the Dream.

The cat had died outside the doors with the bloodied one. Torn in two by the same Manticore that had torn Yolona’s arm off. The bloodied one had… exploded. Crossbows had died to… she wasn’t actually sure. He’d been grabbed by a Beowulf and dragged silently into the raging ball of black fur and white boneplates to be devoured. Her attempts to avenge him had ended with… heat. Blinding, searing heat. 

The Dream was different. Not a single urge to submit to the rage. A semblance that acted all  _ wrong. _

Yolona clenched her fist, watched the muscles of her arm move. She was strong. Her semblance made her stronger. 

In the Dream it had removed resistance. Instead of punching and sending something flying, she punched something and her fist punctured it’s flesh.

She backhanded the bot and sent it flying into the… she didn’t really care. “I’m done,” she announced. Whoever turned on the bot in the first place would probably turn it off for her now. Yolona climbed up the stairs, going down the rows of… seats? They were simply giant slabs of stone cut out from the wall. She sat down heavily behind Titian and the cat. They were glaring at one another.

“Speak,” she growled. “Something is bothering you both. What is it.” Yolona nudged them lightly with her toes. Maybe  _ lightly _ wasn’t the best descriptor. Gently kicked them? They needed prodding if they were ever going to get on with it.  

“None of your business, giantess.” The cat stuck her tongue out at her. “Still bullshit they wouldn’t let me call Neon by the way.”

“Krypton is upset because I led to her sister’s demise in the Dream. She feels that, despite my death, I haven’t atoned fully for my fictitious mistake.”

Yolona groaned. Of all the things they could be… 

She pointed at Titian. “You could have done better.” She shifted to the cat. “You should be glad it wasn’t your real sister. Now  _ both _ of you will know not to let this happen again or continue to be upset about it. Mistakes are opportunities to do better. Be thankful we have the opportunity to learn from the biggest mistakes without actual loss.” 

She… hadn’t strung that many words together for a long time. If it weren’t for her usual battle roars she suspected she would have had a sore throat by now.

The cat made a sulky face. “Eh, I guess. And Neon’s alive. And relatively okay. She skinned her knee.”

Titian blinked. “That sounds counterproductive. Wouldn’t that merely hurt without any benefit?”

“What? She - oh no, she fell over and grazed it. She didn’t take a peeler to it or anything. Gross. Do you not know what a skinned knee is?”

“A knee without skin. It seems self evident.”

“You’re fucking impossible to talk to.”

“You two are a pain.” Yolona rumbled. 

Crossbows poked Titian’s shoulder, tried to start a game of paper, scissors, rock. 

“I do not know what you’re attempting.”

“Yeah Avos. Titian here doesn’t know about fun. It’s outlawed in the loser tooth.”

Avos. So that was his name. Yolona  _ nudged _ the cat again. “You will not find peace if you provoke at every opportunity.” 

“I don’t want peace. I want  _ fun _ . I want - I dunno. I think I’m going to go speak to one of those doctors they mentioned. Get it out the way.” She stood, stretched, then hopped up the benches towards the door. 

“Good riddance.” Titian muttered under her breath. Yolona couldn’t blame her. The cat was… catty. 

“Hey weirdo. Bye weirdo.” Cat waved to the coated hunter as she passed him. 

The scent of iron approached, sat itself behind them. His breaths were heavy, and had the same rich stink of blood about them, his floppy hat covering his face. “You smell of them, of the beasts, the Grimm.” His voice was heavy, accented. “Are you cursed, then?”

Yolona frowned. Thought about it. She was many things, a survivor, a Huntress, a Berserker… but she did not recall ‘cursed’ being one of those things. She grunted something noncommittally. 

“Yes, I am cursed. And my curse is my own.” Titian’s claws were out. Hm. 

“I didn’t speak to you, wolfwoman. I spoke to the rage-tainted.” He exhaled another heavy breath reeking of blood. 

“I am not  _ tainted. _ ” Yolona growled.

“You are a berserker. Their strength flows through your soul. We all bear mark of Grimm, one way or another. Yours is simply - stronger.” He chuckled. “Can you hear the blood sing to you?”

Titian stood and loomed over him, a low snarl audible, but he simply chuckled more. His clothes were bloodstained, even outside the dream. The blood was fresh too, red and oxygenated and glistening. 

“Hmph. One way of interpreting it.” Yolona muttered to herself. “Where did that come from?” she asked, gesturing vaguely at his coat. “Too fresh to be from anything but an ally.”

He laughed. “There are no allies. Only those who haven’t turned yet.”

“Who did you kill.” She could feel herself tensing. She should have gotten her armour back on as soon as the Dream had ended. Inside it she was safe, secure, and unstoppable.

He exhaled again. “I killed no-one. The blood came from my arteries, once. I kept it.” He reached inside his coat with the clinking of glass and withdrew something that looked like a bottled syringe. “Do you want a taste?” The stench of it was thick, and powdered heavily with Dust and drugs. More than just blood then. 

“No. Do not offer again.” Yolona growled. She was more than ready to attack this… this madman.

“Oh, you’ll change your tune soon enough. All come to the truth of Dust eventually.” He closed his coat. “Fear the old, wolfwoman. It remembers your intrusion.” He stood, then walked away, taking the smell of iron with him. 

Titian was shaking with rage. Her hands were reaching for her sword - for where it would be holstered. She was left grasping at thin air. “I will kill him. I  _ will _ kill him.”

Another huntsman, older, brushed past the retreating lunatic. Also wearing a heavy coat, this one in brown rather than grey, and more redolent of a waterproof than anything else. He wore thick glasses. “Ah. I see our new prospective students have already discovered the sparring area.” He extended a gloved and ringed hand. “Professor Shroud. Grimm studies.”

Yolona turned her attention away from the pair, putting a hand on Titian’s shoulder. “He will meet his own careless end soon enough,” she tried to reassure her fellow warrior. 

There was a thump from behind them. “Excuse me young man. I did hear that you know, and an apology would be appreciated.”

“Like so.” Yolona couldn’t help but grin as she sat down again to watch the show.

The professor had the boy in an arm lock, pressed against one of the benches. “I am sorry about this, but this is a military institution, and as unsavoury as I find the whole affair, discipline must be encouraged.”

The blood hunter snarled. “I - owe - you - nothing.”

The man - Shroud - sighed. “As you insist. Please leave the room immediately, then.” He released him, stood and stepped back, waving absent mindedly. “Go on then, get out of here.”

The boy ran. Yolona tried not to let her disappointment show. She was quite… eager to see what a fully fledged Hunter was capable of. “At least he has  _ some _ sense of self-preservation.” She shook her head and got up to greet the professor. 

“Oh, hello there miss!” The professor waved. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Professor Shroud, Grimm studies.”

“Yolona. Berserker.” She smiled. Grimm studies… She knew a lot about fighting them from first-hand experience, but she was quite happy to fill in any gaps in her knowledge. 

“Interesting, interesting. There aren’t many Berserkers left, are there - I’d have to speak to Professor Myrrha if I wanted a more detailed history, but it’s a pleasure to meet another of you. A pleasure.”

Titian made a noise that might have been a cough. 

“And you too of course! A faunus, with traits of - ah, canis lupus occidentalis, judging by the claws. Always a pleasure. A pleasure!”

Shroud was quite… enthusiastic.

Avos hopped down the seats and stairs to the floor, waving to Shroud and bowing slightly. He was still wearing that odd smiling mask, even if his crossbows were not by his side. 

“And you too - er - you! Yes. Your outfit style is very unique. A pleasure to meet all of you!”

Yolona was starting to get the feeling she would have been better off in the wilds, away from this mountain of madmen. 

-.-.-

_ You know  _ everything _ that goes on in these halls. You know everything. You cannot hear what they say but you can lipread, can’t you? You know everything. You stand by and watch. You don’t tell them you know. You just stand by. You just watch. _

_ Oh the secrets you could share. The burdens you could relieve. The stresses you could reassure. _

_ You stand by. _

_ You watch. _

_ Because you do not care.  _

_ Because it is not your place. _

_ It is not your place to care. _

_ And you call yourself a  _ good _ witch. _

-.-.-

Ironwood pressed his hand to his jaw. Glynda was - she was angry alright. 

“Unacceptable, verging on torture of your students!”

“Glynda, please. I explained my reasons - ”

“And that’s even before I  _ begin _ to discuss with you how you run this - this Dream.” She’d actually drawn her weapon on him, which was - perhaps unexpected, but valid. Though it was only a riding crop, her terrifying proficiency with her semblance made the act of drawing it a formal declaration of how pissed off she was.

“The Dreamweaver was a consenting subject. While the effects of the - overstimulation of their semblance have left them unable to form long term memories, and have blurred what ones they have, I can show you multiple forms of written and video proof of consent.”

“Consent the students didn’t give.”

“Of course they didn’t, Glynda! Did you or I ever give consent to watch our students killed in the line of duty, to watch them break under the weight of it, to run, or die, or fall into drugs and alcohol and depression. They need to know what it is they’re getting  _ into _ , and _ I found that way _ , a way to make them face that terror when they could still recover from it, when they would still have a chance not to be scarred forever by it. A way to let them know without  _ killing them in the process _ .”

“This experience will  _ change them _ , James!” Glynda snapped. “You’ve shown them what will happen if they fail and now every time they do something that will be  _ there _ , hiding in the back of their mind, reminding them what will happen if they are  _ anything _ less than  _ absolute perfection! _ ” 

“It’s better than it happening on the field of battle, than them learning that experience when they already think they know it all and have nothing to fear. Do you know  _ why _ I and the headmasters of Shade and Haven do not speak? It’s because they swallow Ozpin’s - deception, that it is better for them to be children than to be ready for what’s out there and I will not follow that path!”

“Our Kingdoms - our  _ world _ is built on individuality, and art, and you are turning these children into child soldiers! You are forcing them to fall in line and act like a puppet on your strings! To give up everything that makes them -  _ them _ for some nebulous - greater good!”

“I ask nothing I would not sacrifice myself.”

“You and I have been through this ourselves.  _ We _ are willing to sacrifice more than  _ they _ have to offer.” 

Ironwood sighed. “Glynda - you seem to think that I believe this won’t hurt them. Of course it will. Of course it does. But I still believe it’s better for them to be hurt now, than to be hurt later, and risk every part of our world. Especially when the hurt isn’t even real.”

“They thought it was real. You know full well how hard it is to tell the difference between reality and - and those  _ Dreams. _ ” 

He sighed again. “Scar tissue makes the strongest leather, and they’re going to need every piece of armour they can get.”


	26. Strife Part III

-.-.-

_ You burn everything you touch, whether you intend to or not.  _

_ You can’t control yourself.  _

_ You can’t control anything. _

_ And going with the flow just isn’t going to cut it anymore. _

-.-.-

Vivian felt cold. Her right arm, specifically, was bloody cold. Why she had a one-sleeved outfit was… honestly beyond her right now. She was still struggling to pull herself together. 

The therapist had told her she needed to… to… anchor herself in the present. Or something. So she could objectively look over what happened. 

Why was this place so cold?!

Why was she so - so stupidly dressed in the middle of an arctic  _ mountain?! _ It snowed here nearly every day! 

There. She had an anchor, right? Bad weather. Bloody atrocious weather. 

She needed a cuppa tea. 

She passed through the halls. People coming, going, waiting for a therapist to be free, just coming out of a session like her, TSO’s everywhere - like really bloody everywhere -

“Excuse me, miss?” 

Vivian gave a started yelp as a feminine voice brought her out of her thoughts. “Uhm, yes?”

“I think these are yours.” The girl - woman? The TSO was female, at least. And blonde. She handed over a hastily pinned black dress and a small, hissing, red - 

“ _ Merlin! _ ” 

Merlin bobbed his head and hissed more, then proceeded to miss her arm and hurtle towards the floor until she grabbed him. He wriggled in her grasp before coiling up her arm. 

At least she had  _ one _ tricky little bugger back up her sleeve.

“Would you like the dress too?”

Vivian thought about it. It belonged to that doom-and-gloomy girl, Andrew something-or-other. “I’ll… okay.” She took the dress and thought about bundling it up into a ball for a moment, before instead wrapping it around her bare arm. It was much warmer than the cool air. “Thank you.” 

“You’re quite welcome. Is there anything I can help with? You look a bit shaken.” 

“I’m okay. Don’t know who’s bloody dress this is, but… ” Vivian shrugged. 

“I thought it was Necro-cutie’s.” A familiar voice full of smirk interjected. 

Vivian’s eyes widened. “MAVERICK!” she yelled, throwing her arms out and catching her childhood friend - how had she not recognised him properly  _ before _ ? - in a hug. “I’m so sorry I completely forgot about -”

Maverick returned the hug with a laugh. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We all had much bigger concerns than who was who.”

“Too bloody right but -”

“No buts. We need coff-”

Vivian glared at him.

“Tea.” 

“Better.” 

-.-.-.-

So, as it turned out, there  _ were _ some not-cold rooms in the mountain. Communal recreation rooms, break-rooms, whatever they were, Vivian was glad for them. 

She sipped at the hot tea and sighed happily, sinking into the soft couch. “ _ Muuuch  _ better.” she hummed. Red velvet. So sooooooft.

“I never did quite understand your family’s intense love of tea.” Maverick grinned lopsidedly as he sipped at his hot chocolate, sitting the armchair opposite. 

“My family came from a dinky little island off the coast of Mistral. Made the best bloody tea in Remnant.” Vivian reminded him. She forgot the name of it, but from what mum had told her, it was a rather peculiar place. “How have you been since we last caught up? Gosh it must’ve been… years now.” 

Maverick shrugged. “Eh, so-so. Managed to get into here, didn’t I?”

“Well you certainly don’t look as starved as that darling little angel Winter picked up.” Vivian noted. “You’ve changed your style a ton, too.” 

“Gotta make do with what you’ve got.” 

“Have you been living on the streets again?” 

Maverick strategically took a far too long sip of drink while Vivian gave him a steadily increasingly deadpan look.

“Mum did tell you there’s always the spare room at our place if you need somewhere to stay.” 

“Yeah…” Maverick sighed. “I can’t really look at any cop nowadays without being reminded of dad.” 

“Fuck’s sake, Mav. We’ve been over this. Maybe these free therapists they’ve got can finally give you a hand.”

Maverick’s turn to glare. But not at her. Just… there. At the wall. The middle distance. The horizon. Whatever other poetic thing he wanted to call it while he went through his edgy routine. 

“Maybe… I think I’m dealing pretty well.” He put down the empty cup with a slight clink.

Vivian rolled her eyes. “Why do you drink hot chocolate, anyway? Tea’s good. Or hell, even coffee.”

Maverick gasped, almost offended. “It’s  _ chocolate. _ How can you not take chocolate every chance you get?” 

“Pretty damn easily. Overly sweet bloody bullshit.” She took another sip of her lovely bitter tea. 

“Bah. You’re just missing a sweet tooth.” 

“I do  _ so _ have a sweet tooth!” 

“Name the last thing you had that tasted sweet.” 

Vivian paused. “... uhhmm… hang on I’ve got this…”

“Was it that candy I left for your birthday?” 

“... yes.” Vivian sighed, defeated. 

Maverick’s head rocked sideways as a black gloved hand slapped him upside the head. “Nothing wrong with not liking sweet food, kid.”

“Goddamnit, Slade.” Maverick grumbled, chuckling. “Did I actually do something that time or has it just become a habit?”

“Muscle reflex. I hear you talking, I know it’s dumb.”

“Oh yeah? What about that trick with the Gauss pistol?” Maverick shot back with that shit-eating grin on his face.

Vivian found herself lost. Gauss pistol? Tricks? Probably things that’d happened in the - the Dream. She focused on her drink. Savour its flavour. The warmth. She still had Aphoth’s dress wrapped around her arm. 

She wasn’t there. She was here with Maverick and Slade. Her foot drummed on the carpet. 

“Probably would have thought of it myself, eventually.” Slade replied, taking the second armchair for himself. Vivian gave him a once-over. He looked  _ nice. _ Buff, manly… if she were into that thing she’d be purring all over him. 

Eh, she was sure he’d make some gal happy one day. 

“What, the part where you use  _ my _ guns or the infinite ammo?” Mav wasn’t malicious. He was just good-natured and poked fun at things. Humour. That’d been his coping method. Before...

She’d never really worked out an equivalent. Humour? Yeah, she could use that. Flirting? That too. But nothing concrete to deal with shit. Not like he had. 

Then again, she hadn’t had to deal with as much. 

She sighed. Before his father - Mul - had been killed, Mav had been  _ fun. _ Now it was like he was… a joke. Just one, endless, vicious joke. He’d lost his innocence. She could see it in his eyes if he ever stopped long enough to look at her. 

“Both, maybe.” Slade turned to her and grinned. “You’re Vivian, right? Nice to meet you. Slade Coal.”

Vivian put on one of her best smiles on reflex. “A pleasure, pretty boy,” she winked. It lasted about half a moment before she faltered and looked away, dropping the smile. “I’m sorry. It’s nice to meet you too, Slade,” she said quietly, sipping at the last of her tea.

“It’s fine. Good to be called pretty again actually. That hasn’t happened since that one time I wore a tutu.”

Vivian and Maverick both choked on their drinks. “What-” “TUTU?!” 

Slade calmly sipped his glass of water. “It was a dare. Flynt has an odd sense of humour.” He paused. “My brother. Flynt’s my brother. Forgot that you didn’t know that.”

It took a while but she finally got her choked cough-laughter under control. “I’m sorry but the thought of you in a tutu is both deliciously appetizing and  _ horrifyingly traumatic, _ ” Vivian stated matter-of-factly. She still couldn’t quite believe a man like Slade would ever wear a tutu, all frilly and pink. 

Exposing all his rippling, oiled muscles as he pirouetted across the stage, twirling around and giving the crowd and amazing view of his taut buttocks, and -

She licked her lips. She needed more tea. Yes. More tea.

“My  _ god _ , Slade, the mental image of you in a tutu is going to be seared into my mind forever.” Maverick couldn’t stop laughing though. “And Viv, I thought you were -”

“Shut up and let me fantasize.” Vivian held up a finger and cut him off right there not even looking at him. She must have had a spot of red on her cheeks.

“Like I said, a dare. And I’m touched.” He took another sip of water. 

Vivian grinned. “Not yet you’re not~” she purred, envisioning a rather complicated stage-play involving a lot of scantily clad bodies. And oil. And possibly some erotic dancing. 

“Slade, how do you keep doing this?” Maverick asked incredulously.

“Natural charisma, Maverick. Some people just have it. I’m one of them.” He looked unbearably smug. 

“Oh, no, love, you have the charisma of a wet towel.” Vivian interjected. “That hot bod though, mm-mm- _ Mm~ _ ,  _ rawr. _ ” 

Slade made a noise that was somewhere between a fish out of water and a drowning puppy while Maverick cackled like a man possessed. 

Vivian’s cheeks flushed red. Oh god, she’d really said that, hadn’t she? … totally worth it. 

When the boys had finally gotten their breath back, Maverick stood up and stretched. “Oh that was good fun, but I should probably go check on some of the others,” he said, trying to excuse himself.

“Oh no you don’t,” Vivian got to her feet and held out her arms, beckoning him. “C’mere,” she said, pulling him into a warm embrace and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Merlin poked out of her sleeve to boop Maverick with his snout before diving back in again. He laughed and returned the gesture, even waving as she did when she sat down again. Slade was gawking a bit, the muppet. 

“Oh.” Slade took another sip of his water. 

“Oh what?” Vivian asked, smiling innocently - or not. She was too happy to care. “Do tell~” she purred.

“Nothing, nothing.” He looked away, looking a bit tense as he crossed his legs. 

Vivian grinned, getting to her feet slowly, biting her lip. Move like Merlin- okay,  _ not _ like Merlin the spastic little muppet, but like a snake, slow, sensuous, and with all the curves and arches of her back - the effect was definitely ruined by the fact Aphoth’s dress was still wrapped around her arm but she was pretty certain Slade hadn’t taken his eyes off her. 

She sauntered over, and practically draped herself over his lap, being sure to wriggle a bit to get comfortable. “It didn’t look like nothing~” she whispered, dipping her head slightly, letting her ginger fringe get between their eyes as she bit her lip. 

Putting a hand on his chest, she started tapping a beat with her finger. Tap tap tap tap. “So, big boy~ Gonna tell lil’ ol’ me what’s on your mind?” she asked, keeping that low purr she’d perfected over years of trying to get a date.

“Uh, not much. Just, um.” He looked skyward. “The weather. Just - wondering what the weather’s like.”

“Oh,” Vivian put a little disappointed, but not entirely dejected, whine into the word. “Nothing else?” She traced her finger up his collar, over his neck, and finally off the tip of his chin. They were so close now, she could feel his breath mingling with hers.

“I was thinking how rear - how rare it used to be to get into situations like this.” There was a panicked edge to his voice. Then, a sudden spark in his eye as he moved decisively - to his feet, depositing her on the sofa beside him. “Would you look at the time, I have to go too now. Therapy, haha, what fun that will be. Bye, nice to meet you.”

It was finally Vivian’s turn to cackle. She got up and held out her arms. “C’mere,” she beckoned him, unable to stop laughing as she grabbed him into a hug before he could escape. Whispered right into his ear, “It was a pleasure to meet you,  _ Slade~ _ ” She said his name in such a way she knew her voice would be stuck in his head for the next  _ week. _

And all he got was a quick peck on the cheek before she retreated to the sofa, teasing Merlin out from her sleeve and ignoring the world around her.

-.-.-

He had to go. He had to find a bathroom or a bunk or just somewhere else and - he needed to think of more maths problems. He risked a quick glance down and nope, it was still visible, why had he  _ ever _ made his combat pants baggy. Maths problems. Quadratic equations. Engineering. Goddamn Dust matrices and not Vivian grinding against him or that TSO’s breasts in his face - 

Those were  _ not maths problems _ . 

Therapy. He should ask to be put in an appointment for Therapy. Did they help Hunters deal with distractions of the - the  _ other _ kind? Was that even something that had happened to people in the Dream? Now that he was outside it he could see parts had operated on dream logic, so maybe - 

He could but hope. 

Along the corridors. Where was a TSO, where was a TSO - 

He found one. He found  _ that _ one. 

She was leaning over the circular balustrade, at the perfect angle to show off everything. To him. The arch of her back, the swell of her chest, the gap between her thighs. And her ass. Firmly clad in the white and grey uniform, bouncing slightly as she hummed. 

There had to be another TSO. There had to be one. Somewhere. He could - he could keep walking and find one. 

He couldn’t look away.

He was frozen on the spot. 

She straightened up for a moment and stretched, crossing her arms up behind her head, stretching and arching and  _ pushing her chest out _ and dear moon above he could have sworn she had to be doing this on purpose - 

“Oh, hey, Slade~” she waved. Her visor was clear. She had the most alluring smile. The brightest eyes. Luscious lips -

“Book me into therapy, book me into therapy now, send the details to my scroll, bye.” He hadn’t ever run so fast in his life. He thought being surrounded by hot women was meant to be a  _ good thing _ . 

-.-.-

Five minutes after Slade had left, Maverick came back. “That was so  _ cruel. _ ” 

Vivian shrugged and smiled, guiding Merlin over and under and around her wrists. “You aren’t the only one around here who likes messing with people, y’know.”

“You know the guy’s been teased like that at least - uhh… like five times since the Dream?”

The only response he got was more joyful cackling from Vivian. 

“Right, right, you’re having fun too.” Maverick chuckled. “Seriously though, don’t lead him too hard, alright? The guy’s got Necro-cutie and Rockstar after his buff ass already.” 

“Oh,  _ really. _ ” Vivian deadpanned at him. “I never would have guessed.”

“Har har.”

“He’s  _ hot! _ ”

“And you’re  _ lesbian. _ ”

“Just because I don’t bat for that team doesn’t mean I can’t ogle their wares.” Vivian pouted. And accidentally dropped Merlin. Muppet. He hissed a little as she picked him back up, then wriggled in the way that she’d always interpreted as dancing. 

“Vivian.” 

She sighed. “Okay, I’ll dial it back. He seriously thought  _ we _ were a thing!” And he fell down  _ yet again _ .

Maverick snorted. “I’m sorry. But - no. We  _ grew up _ together.”

“And then you dropped off the radar for five bloody years!” she shot back, reaching down to pick up Merlin.

“I had to…” Maverick trailed off. “Had to… y’know. We’ve all got our own ways of coping.” His face was downcast. Vivian felt… actual concern for him, now. He seemed to be doing relatively okay… after all, it’d been… what, six years now? 

“How are you holding up?” she asked softly, ignoring Merlin for a moment. He licked her thumb before curling up into her sleeve again. 

“Ehhh…” Maverick shrugged in that way that kept the shoulders up too long. An indicator of stress. “I was only gone three and a bit years. The fifth anniversary is coming up in a couple of months.” 

“Felt like longer.” 

“Felt like a fuckin’ eternity.” Maverick grumbled, leaning over the back of Slade’s former armchair. “Last I checked, your hopes and dreams were in fashion. What happened?” 

Vivian raised her eyes to the heavens as though they held the answer and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe Mul’s death… someone’s gotta protect the world. I’m capable. I’ve got the tools, the… the conviction, I want to make a difference. Even a small one.” 

“You don’t sound too sure about that.” Maverick noted, raising an eyebrow and sounding unconvinced.

“And you sound like the therapist. Go see one! They’re... painful, but not too bad.”

“Nahh, I’ll wait until the lines aren’t so long.” Maverick stood up straight and stretched, letting out a small yawn. “Do you ever get claustrophobic down here? We’re literally living under a mountain.”

“There’s good air conditioning. Now go book an appointment for tomorrow.” Vivian raised her hand and tried to shoo him away. Instead she accidentally flung Merlin at him. 

“Fi-  _ WHAT THE HELL, VIV?! _ ” Maverick recoiled and flailed as Merlin hissed and flailed, caught in his jacket. 

“ _ GODDAMNIT, MERLIN, YOU BLOODY MUPPET!”  _

-.-.-

_ You have power. More power than most, actually. Total telekinetic control over non-organic materials, right? You could  _ annihilate _ so many Grimm. You could be an amazing Huntress. You could  _ own _ the world.  _

_ You could even control your own little piece of it.  _

_ So why don’t you? _

_ There’s nothing keeping you here. With us, with the sane. _

_ You’re so cruel. But you don’t enjoy it. _

_ You’ll never be happy. _

_ No matter how hard you try. _

-.-.-

“I’m sorry.” He whispered it into her back. “I shouldn’t have shouted. And when I talked about Ozpin - you know I trust him. I just don’t always think the path he chooses is the best one.”

He could feel her hot breath in his arms wrapped around her, the end of her hair tickling his nose. 

She shook her head lightly, more than likely quite aware of what she was doing. “Mmm…” she groaned, half way between purring like a cat and murmuring in discontent. “While the apology is nice, you lose points for timing.” 

She was smiling though. He felt that on his bare skin and it sent the best kind of chill running up his spine. He smiled too and pulled her tight against him. She slid into the curvature of the position easily, instinctively, as they both had the last Dust knows how many times. 

“Hn, why do we do this, James?” she asked, rubbing her face against his arm. Most definitely like a cat. “Every year. We fight, we make up... and as soon as the induction ceremony is over I need to return to Beacon.” 

“Because I love you.” The words fell easily from his mouth like they had a thousand times before, but they meant no less. “And the induction ceremony won’t be for a few days yet.”

“We have so little time together…” 

“But every second is worth the world.” He sighed, held her as close as he could. “I’ll try and keep work to a minimum. But - well, you know how it is. The older years will be returning soon. And there are scouts and bullheads and nonsense.” He paused, smiled. “We’d better make the most of what time we have, then.”

“ _ James!  _ Oh~”

-.-.-


	27. Revenants

-.-.-

_ Trust. Trust is a funny thing.  _

_ Sometimes it bites you. _

_ Sometimes it doesn’t. _

_ Trust isn’t a thing. _

_ You’re just gambling with emotions. _

-.-.-

Winter had left Helia in Aphoth’s… capable hands. It was clear she had much more experience dealing with uppity little monsters, and was certainly able to handle two of them at once. 

She hoped.

She’d have to repay the poor girl somehow. Buy her some clothes, or would just money do? Or… would she have to do the same thing at some point in return. 

_ Oh please not that. _

She wasn’t sure how socially acceptable it was to offer compensation for services rendered impromptu without contract. She’d heard that some saw it as offensive, others were more than happy to accept all they were offered. Aphoth seemed… 

Winter sighed as she trudged up the stairs once more. Returning the favour was the only backlash-free option. Unless… she could find a replacement for the dress Helia had somehow gotten herself into and out of. 

At the same time, going out into the city, looking through clothing stores for such…  _ dreary _ garments was a prospect Winter was not looking forward to. There had been a lot of hostility from people who recognised her, not to mention the amount of gossip that would arise from a  _ Schnee _ buying  _ dark clothing. _

Maybe she could get lucky and order it online. 

But for now - 

She had to know. She had to find that envelope, She had to know the truth. And - she would like to see Weiss again. To explain where she’d be for the next four years. 

And, of course, there was the inevitable confrontation with her father brewing. Better to head it off at the pass than try to run. 

There was also the fact she was… stuck under a mountain. She usually had a fairly good sense of direction, but the endless tunnels and halls of the Academy were doing her head in. At least the artificial lighting didn’t actually  _ feel _ artificial. Winter suspected it even replicated natural sunlight, perhaps even enough for a hydroponics facility.

One of the doors said  _ Recreation _ . 

Well, if nothing else she’d get a hot drink and some peace and quiet. Maybe even directions to the outside. 

It was… surprisingly lush inside. Carpet, couches, soft seating. Decorated in white, grey and red. A small kitchen off to the side, an island bar - and an actual bar. A pool table. Potted plants. Being a Hunter was a stressful job, as she’d found out in the Dream. An Oasis like this was… 

Before the Dream, she would have asked why this was needed.

After the Dream, she only found herself thankful it existed.

“Sup, Ice Queen?” 

And of-fucking-course  _ Maverick _ was here.

“Are you  _ ever _ going to give her a break?” Vivian asked, her hands all over him. “Now hold still, I nearly have the slimy little bugger.” 

“Well, with your hands on him you certainly have that.” Winter smiled a little. It was a joke, but she meant the sting of it. Maverick was - she didn’t like him. She hoped, prayed he wouldn’t be on a team with her. 

Though with her current luck… she shuddered at the thought. 

“I am a lot of things but slimy is  _ not _ one of them.” Maverick chuckled. “Where the hell is he?”

“ _ Merlin, you bloody muppet I swear to god I’m going to wring your neck when I find you- _ ” Vivian muttered under her breath, sticking her tongue out as she concentrated and seemingly didn’t realise how compromising her position looked. ‘Extremely Intimate Hug’ only began to describe it. Especially since she was straddling him on the floor. 

If Winter didn’t know about Vivian’s stupid pet snake, she would have felt scandalised. As it was, she simply felt tired. 

“Do you know if we’re allowed to leave the base or not? I’d - like to get something from home. And say goodbye to my sister.”

“As long as you signed that non-disclosure thingy, yeah.” Maverick answered. “Rockstar’s confined to base until she’s sober enough to sign.” 

“GOT HIM!” Vivian announced triumphantly, holding the squirming red wyrmling up in the air. Someone clapped and she steadily turned bright red, scrambling to get off of the scoundrel. “I did not realise,” she mumbled, absolutely mortified, “How bad that looked.”

Winter blinked. “You were literally pressed against his crotch with your hands down his shirt. How - ” She shook her head. 

“I was looking for Merlin!” she exclaimed, holding the squirming, hissing - 

The snake flailed towards her, hissing and baring its fangs. Winter was frozen, another snake was going to bite her why couldn’t she move, it was coming closer and it was - licking her and bashing her with its nose?

Its tongue felt like a piece of string. Its nose was cold and hard. 

Winter decided to back away to be safe. 

“He likes you!” Vivian smiled, holding it closer to her. She backed away again. Vivian got closer.

_ Why is she so proud of it. _

Winter’s eyes darted around the room, looking for something to distract the madwoman anything to change the sub -

“Is that Aphoth’s dress?” 

Vivian paused and glanced at it. “Oh, yup. Do you know where she is? I wanted to give it back but the bloody girl that gave it to me was an absolute tosser.” 

“Yes! Yes I do! Uh, let me take it. And look after it so I can give it to her. Yes.” Two birds with one stone. God Winter was smooth. 

Only a short brief hassle in which Merlin got loose once,  _ ONCE _ , and Winter was in possession of Aphoth’s dress and Vivian was excusing herself to get more counselling, therapy, whatever it was she took her snake with her and Winter was glad to see the pair gone.

Maverick, however, remained, and seemed determined to stick to her like a bad smell. Garlic, maybe? Once pleasant, now irritating and blatantly unwanted.

“So… whatcha doin?” he asked, standing beside her with his hands in his pockets and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Going home. Like I said, I need to get something, and talk to my sister.”

“Neat.” Maverick’s expression turned quizzical for a moment. “Hey, you never actually told me how you got Blue’s rifle.”

Winter bit her lip. “I - ”

“She took it from my body. After she left me to die!” 

Wait, wha - 

The butt of the rifle hit her in the jaw, and she barely had time to bring up her aura, going sprawling across the floor, careening into a table. 

“Hey now, calm down!” Maverick was shouting, somehow behind the girl with an arm around her throat already. Blue was flailing, trying to kick him and lever the rifle into position to hit him. 

“Get off me! Do you know how much gut wounds hurt? Because I do! I was ground to dust and she  _ left me to die! _ ” 

“Attacking her out of  _ nowhere - _ ” 

“ _ She got me killed! _ ” Blue was practically frothing at the mouth, kicking off the pool table and sending the pair tumbling. “ _ SHE  _ was the one who brought the fucking wolf,  _ SHE _ was the one who collapsed the  _ entire fucking building on me! _ ” 

“I didn’t mean - I didn’t - ”

“It doesn’t fucking matter what you meant, you dumb stuck up  _ whore _ !” Blue fired the rifle, and the wreckage of the table behind Winter froze in a sparking mess of ice. “ _ You _ did it-  _ you killed me! _ ”

Please no, she hadn’t meant to, she didn’t - she’d tried to help, hadn’t she? 

“Now that’s a bit uncalled for.” Maverick commented, doing his best to pin her while the other occupants of the room were clearing a way for Security. 

“ _ I could have just bled out if it wasn’t for her! _ ” Blue screeched, elbowing Maverick in the nose and crawling out from under him while he swore and grabbed at his face.

She was immediately tackled by a security droid and sent skidding across the carpet. The robot’s joints had… locked up on contact? It’s lights changed from a leafy green to sky blue as it clambered to its feet and charged at Winter, a hideous synthesized screeching filling the room. 

Winter closed her eyes, she deserved this, deserved this beat down - 

Metal on metal. The sound of someone who had been moving extremely fast coming to a sudden abrupt halt. And the shockwave that produced, that sent furniture and people flying. 

There was a woman in the centre of the room now. She wore a silver armoured dress, flaring out into a hooped and plated skirt, plumed helmet set low over her face. In their other hand they held a lance, the robot impaled firmly on it. A long chain of dust rounds led from the lance to her belt, and even as Winter watched the lance rotated, a spray of bullets sawing the robot in half. 

This was - Winter knew this woman. She was famous. Infamous. A notorious huntress - 

“Colonel Argent?” Blue’s voice was dazed. 

Argent’s face was impassive. “Don’t make me interrupt my meal again.” Another silver streak and rush of debris and she was gone. 

“From Rec Room to Wrecked Room in two minutes. That’s gotta be a new record.” Maverick quipped. “Well… this is a mess.” He collapsed down and patted Blue’s shoulder. “Murderboner sated?” 

Blue’s terrified nodding was about as much an answer as any.

“ _ Miss Azure. You are being taken into custody. _ ” one of the other robots, one with guns, intoned. “ _ You will be disarmed and moved into a holding cell. Please come quietly. _ ” 

“Stop - she - ” Winter spat dust from her mouth. “She was justified. She shouldn’t be punished too harshly.”

“ _ Punishment is to be decided by General Ironwood. Infractions: Attacking without provocation. She will be moved to holding until further notice. Please come quietly. _ ” It was a robot. Of course it wouldn’t take emotions into account. 

“Can you record this statement and present it to the General then?”

“ _ Acceptable _ .”

“Thank you.”

“I -” Blue- apparently, Miss Azure, handed over her gun to the bot, and held out her arms for cuffing. None of the bots moved to restrain her. “I can feel them. I can - ” One of the bots lights flickered blue. “Make it stop. I don’t - I don’t want all this information. I don’t. I - ”

“ _ INTRUSION DETECTED. _ ” The last, un-possessed bot switched to pointing its guns at both Blue and it’s controlled comrade. “ _ CEASE. _ ” 

“I- I  _ can’t _ -”

“Make it dance?” Maverick suggested. Blue turned to glare at him, horrified. “What? It might distract you enough for something to happen.” He shrugged.

Blue continued to look horrified as she concentrated. The Blue-Bot started twitching, twisting its limbs - Winter recognised that move. Blue was making the robot do… the robot.

“ _ CEASE. _ ” 

Blue was giggling. 

“ _ FORCE AUTHORISED. _ ”

“What wha-” Blue was cut off by a small object digging into her thigh and sending her collapsing to the ground, jittering and screaming in pain. 

“No!” Winter lunged at the robot. “Stop it! She’s - she’s just discovered her semblance! Do you have - ” It was a robot, of course it didn’t know what that was like. Instead, Winter simply powered aura into her fist and drove it repeatedly into the robot’s face until it was scrap. 

“Oh for fucks sake,  _ please _ tell me I’m not playing the One Sane Man again…” Maverick groaned, tugging on Winter’s shoulder. “Come  _ on _ , Ice Queen, it’s  _ dead. _ You can stop hitting it. Aaannny moment now.”

No. This thing had -

_ “CEASE.” _

Oh  _ fuck. _

Winter recoiled - maybe if she dodged quick enough, Maverick could take the hit - 

“ _ What _ do you children think you’re doing?!” Ms Goodwitch stormed onto the scene, waving her crop and putting the room back together. Furniture and wreckage floated and fused back together in glimmering purple light - it was as though Blue had never caused a fuss. It was as though Winter hadn’t spent the last minute punching a metal skull in. 

As though nothing had happened.

Aside from Blue still lying on the carpet, twitching and drooling. 

“You’ll look after her, right? You - you know what happened?” Winter - this was her fault. She’d opened that other girl’s semblance and she knew what that took. There was something like bile in her throat. Gall. 

“ _ She _ will be taken care of.” The woman said decisively.

“Well that’s not menacing at all.” Maverick muttered. 

“ _ You _ , on the other hand, need to stay away from her. Final judgement will be left to the General, but you two need to stay apart.” Goodwitch ordered. The rebuilt robots flanking her picked up Blue and started moving her to the cells -

“C’mon, Ice Queen, you need some fresh air.” Maverick mentioned quietly, tugging on her shoulder again. “Before you start punching something  _ else. _ ”

“I… okay.” Winter’s arms wrapped round her. “Okay.”

Why did everything hurt her. Why did she ruin everything. 

Maybe Father had tried to keep her from coming here for a reason.

They left without a fuss. Maverick guiding her through the maze-like halls as she let her mind wander, her body on auto-pilot. 

Helia. Blue. Even the confrontations with Aphoth and Maverick. They were all sparked by her arrogance, her failure. Her inability to control herself. She hadn’t been ready for this. Maybe - maybe she would never be ready. 

Maybe no-one was. She - had to try, right? Had to try and save people, make a difference - because now she’d seen what was out there she couldn’t stand idly by. She never could do that again. 

“Penny for your thoughts, princess.”

Winter blinked. “What?”

“Something’s obviously on your mind. Wanna talk about it?” 

She honestly couldn’t tell if he actually cared, or was just bored and looking for conversation. Likely the latter, but... 

“I - find myself questioning my place here. Whether I should stay or not. I suppose that’s something everyone’s doing. To one extent or another.”

“Got that right. I’m staying. Necrocutie’s on the fence about it. Slade’s staying. Rockstar’s somehow still drunk, which is confusing the hell out of me,” Maverick admitted with a shrug. “Earlier you said you were staying too. What changed?”

“Conversations with people. Blue. What she said… ” Winter’s head hung. 

“Something about you leaving her to die.” 

“It was true. I - I thought. Remember what I said on the platform? Before it all went completely to shit? I found I’d make the other choice. That I’d be a selfish coward. I could have at least comforted her. It might have been more useful than what little difference I made elsewhere.”

Maverick glanced at her evenly. “Yeah. I can see how that’d fill you with doubt. The thing is, you’ve gotta make a  _ lot _ of hard choices in life. You can’t save everyone, no matter how hard you try.” He seemed distant as he spoke. “Gotta know when to cut your losses and move on to somewhere you can do better.” He sighed. “Sometimes it hurts.”

More steps. They had to be getting close to the surface by now, right?

“How do you know though? How do you know where you can do better? What - gives you the right or ability to make that call?” Winter sighed. “It’s just - complicated. In my head at the moment.”

“That’s just the thing. You don’t know. You just have to… I don’t know, if you can’t do any more here, might as well try over there.” Maverick put his hands up behind his head. “Think about it this way. How much  _ more _ fucked would the rest of us have been if you  _ hadn’t _ left Blue to die?”

“I don’t think you would have been much more fucked. I didn’t do that much in the end.”

“Now  _ that’s _ something I never thought I’d see in my lifetime.” Maverick chuckled. “A Schnee selling herself short. To recap, you lasted longer than anyone bar the Berserker, killed me, did so much shit with your Glyphs we probably lasted far longer than we would have without you.” 

Was he trying to be reassuring?

“I suppose - but I missed strikes. Lost my sabre. Started a fight with you.” Her eyebrows drew together. “I was less than I could have been. Than I  _ should _ have been.”

“Why do you think we’re  _ here _ , Ice Queen?” Maverick grinned. “Of course you’re not gonna be perfect right off the bat. I fucked up a fair bit myself.”

The air seemed cooler. Crisper. 

They were here to learn, she supposed. But the failure rankled. How had she not noticed it before? It was becoming more visible by the second, the closer she got to home - 

Ah. 

_ Ah _ . 

“You’re right, Maverick. We’re here to learn. Whatever our starting position is.”

“It’s better to make mistakes while we can afford to do so in order to look out for them and avoid them when it matters.” He said it easily, casually. She wondered if he suffered from Hubris too.

There were people all about, coming and going and jostling. She was a Schnee, she was supposed to be above the hustle and bustle of the common people - no. No. Now she was a Huntress-in-training. She was their… equal. 

Winter shivered slightly, wrapping her arms around herself a bit tighter. It wasn’t because of the chill in the air. It was odd. Not being the finest of them all. But she’d get used to it. She’d develop and learn, and slowly become worthy of that title. She smiled, just a little. 

“Hey, is that one yours?” Maverick asked, pointing to a elegant, sophisticated, ornate Airship on the far side of the platform.

Winter froze. 

It was smooth, sleek - no curlicues or decorations more common among older designs. Winter knew that despite the classic appearance, it was state of the art under the hood - tri pulse ‘plasma’ dust fueled engines, automated power adjustment based on altitude, aura linked temperature control. She swallowed sharply as the door hissed open. 

He didn’t travel with bodyguards. He didn’t need them, or didn’t want people to think he needed them. No-one had dared to guess which it was in decades - even the more extreme faunus rights groups. His double breasted jacket hung open, almost casually, like just another father seeing his daughter. The red kerchief in the pocket of the jacket was a signal flare. Slacks. White, of course. His whole outfit was, apart from his tie and the hankerchief. 

His arms folded behind his back as he took three precise steps forward, steel blue eyes tracking round to lock on hers. His face was still. 

He blinked, once. His eyebrows might have narrowed. Just a fraction of an inch. 

“Oh no.”


	28. Revenants Part II

-.-.-

_ You could never be as cold as your father, right? _

_ You could never be as cold as the ‘doctor’, right? _

_ You could never be as cold as the ice that fills your chest, right? _

_ Just be careful not to get freezer burnt.  _

-.-.-

Maverick gave her one glance. “Welp, you’re fucked.”

Father stood there. Watching. Waiting.  _ Expecting. _

She’d straightened unconsciously. Her hair was a mess. She’d - oh god she’d cut it and she wasn’t even trying to hide it. She had a scratch on her hand from putting it through the robot’s face. Burn marks on her sleeves. A Dust burn across her cheek from where Blue had shot at her. Bruises from her fight with Maverick. At least, compared to him she looked immaculate… but she was standing next to him. 

She - 

She began the walk to her gallows. 

Her father was not a tall man. She was taller than him, if barely. But every step she took brought him looming larger and larger into view until only a scant few feet separated them. 

“Daughter.” 

“Father.”

He nodded once. His hands unclasped from behind his back, fell to his sides. She relaxed, just a little, without thinking about it. 

“You’ve cut your hair. It looks - ” He paused. “Disorganised. But, with some work, I suppose it might look art deco, or… avant garde.”

Winter swallowed hard. “I was in something of a hurry - ”

“Speed does not excuse lack of precision.”

“I -” 

“Sup?”

Winter  _ reacted _ , jumping and cringing at the same time, a tiny startled yelp escaping before she could contain it. She  _ glared _ at him, hissing through her teeth, “ _ Maverick! _ ” 

Father’s head turned. The weight of his gaze shifted from her to Maverick for a moment, a long long moment which judged the pair of them, standing side by side, judged his clothes and weapons and face and - 

“As I was saying, daughter, it is good to see you well. You did not inform me of your departure, of course.” His gaze swung back onto her, like the turning hands of a great clock. A pendulum, tracing out her doom. “Though perhaps I can understand the reason why.”

Winter withered. 

“You have passed the initiation.”

She nodded. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement he expected as truth. 

He nodded in reply, slower. His brows drew noticeably closer to each other. Something in her face - had she - had she nodded too quickly, cast doubt on it, what if he thought she was lying to him - 

“And with flying colours too!” Maverick was wearing that damn awful grin, as though cracking jokes about her, the most influential man on Remnant’s daughter,  _ to his face _ , didn’t even strike him as a  _ slightly _ foolish idea. “Mostly red, though.” 

Father did not look away from her, but he pursed his lips. “I would like to speak to my daughter in private. You will leave. In return, I will make a transfer of ten thousand lien to your account each month.”

Maverick simply stuck his hands in his pockets. “Double it and I’ll think about it.” 

Father turned to look at him again. He looked for a long time, and then he spoke. “Maverick Wilson. You’re the child of that police officer who died tragically in the line of duty… five years ago, I believe it was. Your father was a good man. Brave, foolhardy. But good.” The way he said it wasn’t a compliment. “Consider it tripled.”

Maverick’s eyes narrowed the tiniest bit as his grin started to show more teeth. It gave her images of that same grin on the rooftop in the rain and lightning. “A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Schnee,” he said, bowing the tiniest bit before firing off a half-hearted salute as he turned to leave. “Be seeing you, Ice Queen.”

Father turned to look at her again. Her heart pounded in her ears. 

He blinked, twice. “I’ve heard the initiation is very challenging.” He nodded, just a little. His own little congratulations. 

“I - ” Winter swallowed just a little. “I thought - ”

“You will be team leader of course.”

“Teams haven’t been announced yet - ”

“Mm. Talk to James then. Become close to him if you can.”

“Father - ”

His gaze remained fixed on her. “Whichever way seems more appropriate, of course. Diplomacy over force for preference.”

She hadn’t - she hadn’t expected approval. She hadn’t prepared for approval. If he’d disapproved, she could have argued with him, could have - could have fought, could have had something to fight against. Not this. 

“I am…  _ proud _ … of you.” A pause. A different tone. An unspoken ‘ _ I suppose’ _ at the end. Not approval then. But support, nevertheless. Her heart clawed at her throat. “This took planning. And a small amount of skill.” His lips twitched a little. “And dedication you have rarely shown elsewhere.”

She felt so small. 

“Weiss was quite upset to find you gone. Your call to her scroll was ill advised.”

“I wanted to - to check something. And to let her know I was alive.”

That was the wrong thing to say, that was the  _ wrong thing to say _ \- 

“Why would you not be.”

“Irrational fear. I apologise.” Winter swallowed. She - she couldn’t tell him the truth. He might start removing evidence, or - “I have been under great stress as of late.” Good, good, keep it formal. Like Father at one of his many press conferences or interviews. “I… am still quite rattled from the -” 

Her throat closed up. Her vocal cords refused to work.  _ Dream. The Dream. Where I thought you and Weiss had died.  _ She couldn’t - her brain wouldn’t - her mouth flapped - 

“The initiation.” He did frown then. A full frown. “You performed above average.”

“I - ” Her brain stopped again. Blue, grinding to dust. Maverick’s red stained grin. Ash, split open by a Nevermore’s claws. “I - ”

His face was like a glacier, cracking and rumbling and drawing closer. 

“Control yourself. You are - you  _ will _ be the finest of them all. Understood?”

“Y-yes, Father. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Do better.” His hand closed on her shoulder. “You will return home with me and bid a proper farewell to your sister. Then you will return. You will be top of your class. Every class. By a significant margin.”

The prison door swung shut. Winter walked into the airship, and felt her mind shut itself down, even as Father continued to talk.

She could never escape him. She could never escape. 

-.-.-

_ You have a  _ **_responsibility_ ** **,** general. _ A  _ **_responsibility_ ** _ to  _ uphold _ the rights of the citizens.  _

_ People place their trust in you and what do you do?  _

_ Your best, of course. _

_ But it’s not always  _ **_good enough_ ** **,** _ is it? _

_ Go on. Prove me wrong.  _

_ I’m waiting. _

-.-.-

Ironwood sighed and rubbed his temples. Schnee. Schnee Schnee  _ Schnee. _ He had known Winter was going to cause trouble the moment she walked through the front gates. They always did and they always would be, it was simply in their nature to be disruptive in some form or another. 

Orion Schnee, watching over his back. As the kind and generous benefactor that kept his military supplied with premium quality Dust at a fraction of the price, the stream of Lien coming from  _ him _ did more than the yearly budget the school got from the  _ government. _

As such, the elder Schnee was allowed certain… doors to be opened that would otherwise remain closed to him. Class schedules, facility schematics, he could look through them at will. Could even suggest changes, though he hadn’t used that power yet.

Ironwood hated that. ‘Suggest’, as though he would have the option of refusing. If he tried, or even acted like he was considering otherwise, the flow of support would dwindle. He  _ hated _ being backed into a corner like that, forced to compromise the renown of his Academy. Hated Orion Schnee. 

He couldn’t just up and refuse Winter entry, either. She was skilled, talented. And perhaps, could grow out from under her father’s thumb. If she didn’t continue to act as a walking disaster. Beyond that, Orion appeared to approve of her attendance, and that was enough to make him nervous. 

Orion Schnee’s approval was  _ not a good thing _ . 

It was going to be an  _ excruciatingly _ long four years until her graduation.

Case in point, Miss Azure pacing in her holding cell, disarmed, and kept under armed human guard, muttering to herself. He leaned forward and turned a dial, letting her voice fill the office.

_ “Stupid fucking bitch just - just rammed herself into the situation and brought that  _ fucking  _ Beowulf and knocked down the stupid building and - _ ” Ironwood felt jaded, listening to her sobbing, but he forced himself to hear the rest.  _ “It’s all  _ her _ fault. My fault for being stupid enough to think she was gonna actually stay. She’s a Schnee. Schnees just do what they want for themselves. The bitch even took my gun. Even  _ Red _ wouldn’t do that…” _

He’d seen it all in the Dream, of course, even from her perspective, but he couldn’t read her thoughts. Her emotions, her feelings on the matter, were her own. And she was holding a grudge. 

A reasonable grudge, in a sense. Being left to die wasn’t pleasant. But her perspective was warped, by the pain and adrenaline. 

He so so wished the Dream wasn’t necessary. That he didn’t know what lurked in the dark. 

With a sigh, he got to his feet and shut down the terminal. It would be better to do this in person. Glynda had been quite furious with him earlier, storming in and demanding he face the consequences of his unique initiation method. He couldn’t find it in himself to hold it against her. 

The Dream was monstrous, and sometimes it backfired. But it was still better to have it than not. So they knew, in a sense. What he knew. Why he fought. Because that knowledge, that weight… he bore it so others wouldn’t have to. That was the way it was. 

Doors hissed open, not a moment too soon nor a moment too late. It was all very clinical, very… removed. Perfect, precision Atlas engineering. 

It just didn’t feel human. 

Humans were prone to error by nature. Most mistakes could be fixed should they not be left to fester. It was only a short walk and a quick elevator ride to reach the holding cells. Miss Azure was still pacing in her cell, muttering, even screaming in anguish occasionally. 

The guards straightened as he walked down the hall towards them. “At ease.”

“Sir.”

“Oh, great, I’m finally getting my  _ judgement _ , am I?” Miss Azure called out sarcastically. There was a tone of pain, of betrayal, to her voice, and it twinged on James’s conscience. 

“Miss Azure,” he began, standing in front of the bars. She was huddled against the back wall in a huff, glaring at him, her knees drawn up.

“General.” She grumbled, looking away. 

“I would like to personally apologise for what happened.”

She frowned, genuinely confused. “Why?  _ That bitch _ was the one who - ”

“I was the one who put you in the Dream, knowing that you would die a horrible death one way or another.” Ironwood confessed.

“... oh.” 

“While the Dream is horrific, and it’s effects substantial -”

“No shit, sherlock.”

“Miss Azure, please, I am trying to -”

“Trying to what? Convince me that  _ she’s not at fault!? _ ” She leapt to her feet, causing the guards to train the guns on her. “SHE TOLD ME IT WOULD BE OKAY!” she shrieked, distraught. 

Ironwood waited patiently for her to finish and calm down, if just a fractional amount. “I recognise that.” He sighed. “It is also clear that you are unfit for duty as a Hunter.”

“Big fucking whoop.” Her voice trembled, and James could see that she was holding back tears as she fell against the wall and slid down it, returning to her curled up position. “Eve’yone tol’ me I wasn’ gonna make it, anyways…” 

James sighed. “While you  _ are _ unfit for duty as a Hunter, that does not mean you career in Hunting is over.” He glanced around. “Is there no seating down here?”

“Uhh, no sir.” 

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ll do something about that soon then. Miss Azure, you recently discovered your Semblance. Can you explain it to me from your point of view?” 

“I get robots,” she grumbled, “Just... robots. Like a second me.” 

“You share a hivemind-like presence with them?” 

“Somethin’ like that…” She said, not sounding too sure of herself. He couldn’t blame her. She was distressed and he was using uncommon words to try describe her situation. 

How to begin, though… ‘I have a proposition for you’? ‘There is an opportunity’, no, no, no. None of those would work. 

He turned to the guards again. “I’d like to speak with her alone.” 

“Yes sir.” The guards saluted, stepping into the elevator. “We’ll be up top of you need us.”

“Thank you.” He nodded, waited until they were out of sight, and out of earshot before pulling out his Scroll and pressing a button. Privacy. “Miss Azure, we only have a few moments so I’m going to make this quick. I need your assistance.” 

She frowned. “The fuck do you need  _ my  _ help for?”

“Your Semblance is unique -”

“Just like  _ eeeveryone  _ else’s.” 

“Please stop interrupting me.”

“Sorry, sir.” Blue shrunk away slightly.

“As I was saying, your Semblance is unique, and quite useful. I have an…  _ associate _ ,” he nearly spat the word, “Working on a Military R&D project involving robotics.”

“You sound like you’d rather he wasn’t.” 

“He’s turned out to be a despicable man, and while his work is necessary, his methods aren’t.” Ironwood grit his teeth. All or nothing. “He would love to get his hands on you and your Semblance for his research. Which would be immensely useful for his final goal, but also presents an opportunity for me. To ensure he stays in line. What I want from you is to be my… undercover operative.”

“Spy.” She said simply.

Ironwood sighed. “Yes. I want you to be my spy. I can  _ not _ let him continue as he has been, but investigating the matter myself is as good as announcing an inspection of troop quarters. They clean up for the inspection, and then go back to dirty habits.” 

Miss Azure looked left and right as though she had been expecting to do that exact thing. “Go on…” 

“With the nature of his projects, he will likely be working very closely with you. His… last subjects have not been treated humanely and I want to ensure the changes I’ve told him to make are enforced properly. I want you to be my eyes and ears within his facilities to ensure he does not stray from the path again.” 

Blue grit her teeth and grimaced, rolling her head this way and that. “Urghhh… I guess I… I’m not going to be a Hunter ever, am I?”

“It is unlikely.” Ironwood confirmed. “However, with appropriate training, you could become a highly ranked Special Officer in the Military. Not quite a Hunter, but not far off, either.” 

“... will I be getting paid for this spy stuff?”

Ironwood gaver her a  _ look. _ “Of course you will.”

“... sorry, stupid question. But I’ve still got a family back home to support, y’know…” she trailed off. Took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll be your spy.” 

“You agree to this knowing that in the worst possible scenario you could be locked away and inhumanely tortured until I can take action? I don’t believe it will come to that… but it is a possibility.” 

“You already put me through that once, so yeah, let’s do this thing.” Miss Azure got up, rolling her shoulders and getting into stance. “... details still need to be sorted out, don’t they…” 

Ironwood nodded sadly. “They do. This will take time. I’ll request a transfer to the accommodation block next to mine. Do not speak a word of this to  _ anyone. _ ” 

“Yes sir!” she snapped off a rather sloppy salute before sitting down on the bench. “Thanks… I guess.” 

“For?”

“For not just throwing me out in the cold…” she rocked back and forth. “I… I don’t know what I was expecting after attacking her and being… locked up like this…” 

“There is a reason final judgement is left to me.” Ironwood smiled. “Thankfully there are few enough incidents I can attend to each personally. You have potential, and potential is the one thing in this world we must do our best not to waste.”

-.-.-

_ You have to keep the mask up if you don’t want your true colours to show… _

_ Heh. True colours. Do you even know what they are anymore? _

-.-.-

Maverick had lost his good mood. 

_ The big gun just take it and jam it in his face there’s no way to defend with aura with something so  _ **_close_ ** _ \-  _

He was mad. 

_ Get behind him jam it in the base of his skull let the slug rattle around that empty head of his - _

He was…

_ Shoot  _ **_her_ ** _ for bringing him here show him how little his self-serving ways protect his future - _

He shuddered. He couldn’t have - if he did that he’d be - 

The bastard. The  _ bastard _ . Using his father’s death against him. Threatening him. Self serving jumped up fucking prick, he was going to  _ ram his hand down his throat and pull out his guts _ \- 

The Geist. That fucking Geist.

He could feel it clawing at the back of his mind.

Urges. Whispers. 

Just a dream just a dream just a - oh fuck it, the thing actually came up with some pretty good plans for him to kill everyone. Grenade here, Dust charge there, bring down the whole front entrance. Mines in the backup escapes. One well placed detonation could bring the whole of the mountain down the side. 

He’d finished walking back to the doors. Turned to look. Little Miss Schnee was running away with Father Dearest, running off home with her tail between her legs because  _ goddamnit the bastard was untouchable. _

Maverick wasn’t an idiot. He knew the signs. Orion Schnee was a smug man. Quietly smug, the  _ worst _ kind. He knew he could afford to piss off everyone. He knew he could afford to make enemies. And he did.  _ God, _ did he make enemies. 

No wonder the man had the highest bounty in the Underground on his head. 

Close to forty million Lien, plus loot. 

Heh, heads. Maverick was nearly a head taller than Winter and  _ she _ was half a head taller than her father. Not a big man, yet looming all the same.

Maverick made his way through the crowd, dodging and weaving without breaking stride. Unlike the awkward and jarring Miss Schnee he was  _ born _ in the chaos of the streets. With a police officer for a father, one tended to figure out all the ways to get on the wrong side of the law. 

It was a pity, almost. 

Now… where to find one psychotic wolf…

The Dream had been hard on her. She’d come out roaring and been put straight down by Valkha. Hm. Surprisingly lax security on the security. Eh, he figured they probably knew he had access to a TSO’s datapad. They’d handed it right over, after all. 

Sure it’d been to sign a nondisclosure contract but they hadn’t asked for it back. 

He scrolled through the list of occupants in the building. Stream Alpha… leaders, probably. Stream Beta… teamers, probably. Stream Charlie… no idea. Stream Delta… tech-heads. Stream Echo… obviously the stealth stream as there was only one name on the list. 

Titian Cinerous. Location; Rec Room, level 31C. 

Right at the bar. Perfect.

-.-.-

_ Well, at least you’ve found someone new to hate. That is what you’re best at.  _

_ The darkness is coming and your fires can’t put it out _ . 

-.-.-

Titian sat at the bar, brooding. Her high collar cut off her view of others. No eye contact. Nobody challenging her. She nursed her Boilermaker, carefully taking another bitter, stinging sip. It had flavour. The flavour was admittedly mostly dirt and earth, but that was how good alcohol should taste. 

Like rock and fire. 

A set of footsteps approaching. New. Different. Familiar? The smell was familiar too. Air and gun oil, with a hint of sharp metal. 

Maverick. Hmm. She wondered what he’d order. 

“Hey, Bonfire,” he muttered, patting her on the shoulder as he slid into the seat next to her. “I’ll have one of whatever she’s having.” 

An interesting choice. He seemed unhappy. And the nickname - she’d heard worse, she supposed. The pat was to be discouraged though. She grunted at him and took another sip of her drink. 

“Got room for one more in the Schnee Hate Club?” 

“White Fang doesn’t recruit humans.”

“Of course not, because then you’d be different from the organisations that don’t recruit faunus.” 

“Faunus need to define their own voice. They can’t do that with human input. Though a number of members of the White Fang would disagree with me.”

“There does happen to be a difference between fighting for equality and fighting to be the oppressor for a change.” Maverick grumbled, taking a sip of his drink. And choking slightly. “God _ damn, _ what is this stuff?”

“Pint of dark brewed ice-ale with a shot of three year malt.” Titian took a slow sip. “It’s good.”

“It feels angrier than I do.” Maverick chuckled, almost disbelievingly. 

“Why are you here.” She took another sip of her drink. She wanted to be alone. To plot and brood. Not to have this smelly little boy hanging - 

“Well when Mr Schnee himself decides to spit on your father’s grave and  _ pay you _ for the privilege you tend to have a bit of anger to work through.” Maverick replied evenly. “Can’t say anybody who wants that bastard dead is in the wrong.” 

Her brain stopped. Her heart. He was - could he really be - 

She took a gulp of her drink. “Is he still here?”

“Picked up the Ice Queen and left ‘bout ten minutes ago.” He sipped and grimaced. “Seems he’s personally invested in seeing his perfect little girl succeed.”

She slumped. She’d had - she’d had an opportunity to - 

“He’ll be back. Then we’ll strike.” She downed the rest of her drink. “I must prepare.”

She’d have to be ready. She’d have to prepare the area. 

“Good luck.”

But she  _ would _ kill Orion Schnee. 

-.-.-


	29. Revenants Part III

-.-.-

_ Just- just go with her okay? _

_ She’ll be good for you. Or you’ll be good for her.  _

_ Either or.  _

_ JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE! _

-.-.-

He took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. The timing was right. He hadn’t seen that TSO since she lounged over the -  _ math, math, math! - _ Aphoth had been away for a while, though he didn’t know where,  _ Vivian _ was thankfully away, and not sitting in his lap placing her slender hand softly on his chest - 

“ _ Come in, Mr. Coal. _ ” 

Oh.  _ Fuck. _

It was a woman’s voice on the other side of that door, and she sounded - 

Sultry. She sounded sultry. 

Maths. Maths and therapy and the Dream. He’d been through trauma recently, couldn’t he just focus on that? 

On - on seeing everyone hurt, in pain, the endless tide of Grimm ready to tear them limb from limb, tearing at their clothes - flesh. Tearing at their flesh - 

His heart was hammering in his chest as he pushed open the door and slipped in rigidly. His movements were stiff, his blood pulsed in his veins. He could feel the sweat starting to build on his brow.  

_ Thump. Thump. Thump. _

He had no idea an open-topped frilly blouse and a pin-stripe suit could look so good. A short pencil skirt. Tights as far as the eye could see. 

She lowered her head to look at him over her glasses. “Mr. Coal, please, take a seat.” Her tone was commanding. Tempting. Daring him to do otherwise. 

It felt like he clambered into the offered seat, immediately crossing his legs and relaxing slightly - 

“You left the door open.”

_ Fuck.  _

_ Fucking fuckity fuck.  _

He should not have relaxed. He stood, bow legged, raced for the door, shut it. Her skin was cinnamon coloured and looked so soft as her eyebrow arched - 

She frowned as her pen rolled off her clipboard, and leant down to pick it off the ground - look away look away look awa - even hanging they looked so firm and -  _ maths! Dust matrices! _

“So. What would you like to talk about.”

Slade’s mind was blank. He didn’t have thoughts. Couldn’t risk having them. 

“D - Dream.” 

“Of course. The Dream is quite a traumatic experience, I imagine. I haven’t been through it myself but I have helped many would-be Hunters with the aftereffects.”

Trauma. Definitely the biggest thing on his mind right now. Possibly not the biggest thing anywhere else. 

“What was your experience like?” 

Talk about it. Talk about how it hurt. Talk about - about how  _ in control _ she looked, as though she knew he was thinking about her and the TSO - 

“Mr. Coal?” she prompted him with a gentle look of concern. His lust-addled mind supplied  _ she just wants to cuddle you intimately and tell you it’ll all be okay _ but he couldn’t trust himself - 

“Uh - I - ” His words choked in his throat. She was going to punish him for not talking to her for wasting her time and oh god he didn’t think he could have any more problems but there they went. 

Was that a whip at her belt or was he imagining things?

“Distractions.” Look away. Not at her chest. Her face. Oh no that was worse. Her soft brown eyes. Those kissable ripe lips. She had freckles. 

_ BANG! _

He jumped as the door slammed open and someone grabbed him by the cuff of his shirt - “SLADE, COME ON, I NEED HELP, THEY SPLIT UP AND I CAN’T FIND EITHER OF THEM!” 

“Bwuh?”

Aphoth was holding his shirt sleeve. Her hair was a mess and she had what might have been cake mix down the side of her face. That was - he could deal with that. Then she looked past him and her face twisted in surprise. 

“Really? Another one? Are you fucking serious?”

“You’re interrupting this therapy session - ”

“Save it floozy. We’ve got to find those two idiots.”

“ _ Sit down. _ ” She cracked the whip - oh shit she  _ did _ have a whip. “I will  _ not _ tolerate -” 

“ _ They’re still out there - _ ” 

“So I  _ wasn’t _ just imagining you as a dominatrix on the side?” Slade asked before his brain caught up with his mouth. 

A sharp sting from the right. And then the left. Aphoth, Therapist. 

“I deserved that,” he admitted, accepting his fate.

“Now  _ sit dow - _ ”

“KAYNOTHANKSBYE!” Aphoth shouted, dragging Slade out of the room without a second’s warning. 

Slade ran after her. Tried to. She was moving very quickly and holding his arm at an angle where he was more stumbling and trying desperately not to accidentally kick her or himself. “Who’s missing? Who are we looking for?”

“There’s no time to explain, just follow -” 

Slade stumbled and fell into a tall boy who clanked as he fell. They were tumbling over, his vision filled with red and grey and he couldn’t make heads or tails of it, the smell of iron assaulting his senses and - his face slammed into the other boy’s nose, much too close to his lips for comfort.

The hunter made a noise somewhere between a growl and a snarl. “Get off me. Oaf.”

“ _ Slade, now is not the time for you to make out with your boyto- _ oh. Ew.” 

_ BOYTOY?! _

Slade pushed off and got to his feet as fast as he could what was even going on anymore nothing made sense and -

Aphoth had a hold of him again. 

_ What did I do to deserve this? _

-.-.-

“Stopitstopitstopitstopit-”

“ _ Ashlyn! _ ” 

“Hehehhehe, you’re so cute and cuddly~”

“NNN _ nnnn _ !!!” 

Helia was stuck in Ashlyn’s lap. Ashlyn was sitting cross legged in the corner, drunkenly draped over Helia with her arms wrapped around the angel faunus and… intensely cuddling her. Possibly shirtless. 

“So  _ cuuuuuute~ _ ”

“Lemme go!” 

Aphoth’s face was in her hands. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” she said, her voice muffled. “I really shouldn’t be surprised.”

Ash was blowing raspberries on Helia’s exposed neck while she squirmed. 

“ _ Eewwwwwwwwwww! _ ”

“Ash, have you still got cake mix in your hair?” Aphoth sounded so - resigned. 

“I ate it!” Ash sounded so proud of herself.

“That sounds - I can still see it Ash. It’s - oh my god there’s more of it. Did you dip your head in the bowl?”

“I… licked it?” She seemed confused, so she stuck her tongue out to show and started to - to - do that thing people did when they got an entire head full of hair stuck in their mouth and started trying to blow it off. 

Slade was - both disgusted and amused. He’d never thought he’d say this, but it was better to see two girls covered in cake batter spitting out hairballs than another tightly clad beauty. He couldn’t take more of the latter. 

“Okay, Ash. Let’s get you cleaned up. How about you go have a shower? Aren’t showers fun?” He tried to smile reassuringly. 

“YES! Phllbbt.” Ash stood up and spat out the last of Helia’s hair, clambering over her and tripping up and falling headfirst into his crotch. Slade hissed, thanking every deity on Remnant that he had still worn a cup with his formal wear, even if it had been somewhat… dislodged by recent activity in that area. Still hurt like  _ fuck _ . 

A small squeak came from Aphoth. “Uhm, Slade, you uhh…” 

He looked down. His crotch was  _ coated _ in off-white cake batter.

“Yup…” he wheezed, leaning against the wall.

“Thank you, for coming and… helping me.” Aphoth blushed bright bright red, looking anywhere but him, before yelping as Ashlyn grabbed at her legs, seemingly trying to climb up her front. 

“Showerrrr,” she moaned like a zombie. A drunk, uncoordinated,  _ terrible _ zombie. “Only if you guys come with!” 

Aphoth’s clothes would need to be washed after Ash’s treatment of them. Slade struggled not to imagine her glistening skin under the gentle spray of a hot shower, so pale, so soft, so supple - creamy white with a hot flush of pink - 

“I think it would be best if I showered separately.”

“ _ Wiiiiiiiiith _ ,” she drawled determinedly, pulling down Aphoth’s leggings just enough for her lily-white skin to show before she doubled over and caught them. Slade found his eyes drawn to her.

“But - wouldn’t - aren’t - wouldn’t the showers be separate by gender? He wouldn’t be able to join you.”

The thought of the pair of them rubbing up against - him, each other -  _ acceleration is the rate of change of distance by rate of change of distance the constant differentiation, maths, maths, think maths! _

“I- I’m sure they’ll have some temporary accommodation we can use,” he said with a wince. 

Ash finally seemed to feel sleepy again, because she flopped down limply on the floor. “Night niiiiiiight,” she yawned, rolling over and starting to snore quietly.

Slade slid down the wall. He would’ve slumped his head, but that would have covered his face in more cake batter. “How is she still drunk?”

“Brandy cake. White rum. I can’t remember, but it was a big bottle.”

Slade banged his head against the wall. “I just want to fight monsters. I’m doing this so I can fight monsters.”

Aphoth laughed. “Well, you’re certainly slaying… though I wouldn’t say monsters.” She leaned closer tilting her face a little towards his cheek and oh god her eyes were fluttering closed, Slade was not prepared, this was not a situation he was prepared for - 

Her nose wrinkled. “You smell like blood. Are you okay?”

And then a small white thing poked out of the top of her trousers, slithered up to him and pecked him on the lips. 

He’d just been kissed by a snake. 

He couldn’t handle this. 

“You two should just kiss properly already…” Helia muttered, lost in the background.

He sat there, stunned and slightly numb as she grabbed a wet washcloth and started scrubbing his face. It had to be that boy he’d tumbled into earlier. 

“There we go. Much better.”

He nodded. Because that was what you were supposed to do when a woman told you things were better now, right?

Then he felt her lips on his and she awakened him from his daze - among awakening other things - 

He tried to kiss back or at least respond because that was the right thing to do right but this was unexpected but she was already sitting back smiling a little. 

“Wait, where’s Helia?”

-.-.-

_ Home is where the hearth is.  _

_ Home is not where the heart is. _

_ Take a moment to warm up. _

_ Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold now, would we? _

-.-.-

Winter woke with a start as the airship touched down. She hadn’t realised she’d fallen asleep. Oh. Oh dear. Her father was piloting and would be mad at her for drifting off - 

“Weiss will be inside. You should talk to her first.” 

Winter blinked. Either… she was still asleep and dreaming, or Father was actually showing concern for their sisterly relationship. He smiled gently, put a hand on her shoulder -

“Winter.” 

The cold stern voice of Father cut through the fog immediately. She… she had been dreaming. “Y-” she croaked, before clearing her throat. “Yes, Father?” 

“We’ve arrived.” He didn’t even look at her as he spoke. He didn’t say anything else either. There was no need to. 

She clung to the final moments of her dream. Seeing Father smile. It made her heart ache in a way she couldn’t describe. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him do that, really do that. 

Winter avoided making any noise as she disengaged the harness, slipped from the vehicle onto the grounds. The afternoon chill of even the spring air cut right through her as the fresh snow crunched under her boots. She had to resist the urge to hug herself to retain some warmth. Show solidarity. Father was judging her every move.

She’d be inside and warm soon. 

… she found herself looking forward to four years of intense training. It would arguably be even more intense, more  _ dedicated _ than Father’s own education schedule for her, but she was looking forward to it. 

Simply because he wouldn’t be there in person to look over her shoulder and - misunderstand. 

The thought filled her with a bit of hope. She’d have a second chance. And a chance to define her own goals. 

Servants opened the impressive doors for them, and closed them again once they were inside.

The mansion was gigantic and cold. Huge and empty. The cold grey halls with too-high ceilings and fireplaces in nearly every room. Stone, steel, there wasn’t much to decorate the walls of the entrance hall. It was all very ornate yet minimalistic and - honestly, scary. The way the shadows of the fire’s cage danced off the walls and sturdy pillars sent the average imagination into overdrive. 

She never thought she’d be legitimately thankful for Father’s taste in art. Past the main hall every room was adorned with art piece after art piece, he could afford to hang as much as he liked and he liked a lot of it. Older, more photorealistic pieces, landscapes, still lives, sculptures, more modern and abstract art. None of it could be touched, of course. 

Art was to be appreciated, not dirtied. 

Winter noted a fondness for the darker colours, and the entire spectrum of blue, rested at eye level in most rooms. The first to see, the first to be taken in. One would have to strain their neck to look up at the most colourful and vibrant pieces, nearing the roof.

Despite the cold, and at times empty appearance of the mansion… it was warm. It was welcoming. It was secure. It was…  _ home.  _

Father left to go to his study, as he often did. Winter remembered his expectations from earlier. Pack her things. Talk to her sister. She could have sworn there was something else…

The envelope. She needed to - to confirm what Helia had said. But she also needed to speak with Weiss, and she’d rather enjoy that before… confronting her fears. Though talking to Weiss wouldn’t be easy. 

But if Father knew - he could remove it while she was with Weiss. No. No, she had to check first. 

Weiss wouldn’t forgive her if she didn’t go to her first. 

“Where’s my sister?” She asked one of the servants passing by. 

He nodded. “She had planned a bath last I knew, milady.” 

Oh. That was… unexpected, but a boon. She would have time to check the envelope before Father could intervene, and Weiss was occupied. The excuses began to line up in her head - a perfectly reasonable explanation should Weiss be unhappy.

She nodded, continued on her path. 

Her room. Big, empty… lonely. A giant four-poster bed, with white lace curtains. Clean sheets, every day. Big, fluffy, warm fur blankets. Winter sighed. She would love nothing more right now than to crawl under those blankets and sleep. But she was dirty, and she had things to do. 

Maybe Weiss wouldn’t mind if she joined her in the bath…

Winter’s walls were adorned with pictures. Not quite as much art as the rest of the house. Just a few, select pieces she enjoyed. The rest was pictures. Of when she was younger. Happier. Back before she was smart enough to start learning. A chronicle, was how she’d always justified it. 

Ignorance was  _ bliss. _

The problem was, by nature, she couldn’t enjoy it for what it was.

A stage where things weren’t quite as bright as Father pushed her to start her education early. A few pictures of Winter smiling with Mother. She was… she was gone now. Weiss had… Weiss had never gotten a chance to know her. Not properly. 

Winter didn’t cry. She’d been through that enough times to simply remember Mother fondly. She was… still here. In spirit. It helped her get through the days, sometimes. 

Pictures of when Weiss was just starting to walk. Father was in the corner of one particular photo, smiling as Weiss took her first steps. She hadn’t stumbled for five whole steps. Winter remembered from the tales Mother had told that she had only made two before falling flat on her face, and then they’d picked her up again and gently coaxed her through the motions necessary.

She touched that one gently. Smiled a little. Weiss had been so cuddly when she was younger. Winter almost suspected she’d latched onto her older sister as a surrogate mother figure. She hadn’t - been the best at that, she supposed. She’d been strict, sometimes. Maybe too strict. But she’d helped Weiss and played with her as best she could. 

Fond memories.

But they were just that. 

Memories. 

The future was fast approaching and she couldn’t honestly say she was ready to face what was coming. The Dream, Helia, the life of a Hunter outside Father’s influence… perhaps Weiss would follow in her footsteps. Weiss had shown a greater aptitude for business keeping already. The endless numbers and meaningless words and reports still boggled Winter. 

She had a lot of frustration to work out. She could fight. She - she had the  _ drive _ , the  _ skill _ to actually  _ do _ that. She needed this. It was what she was good at, what she could use to make Father proud of her. 

Some day…

She nearly chuckled as she had a stray thought.  _ Dreams are free. _ No. No they are  _ not. _

Dreams could make a man. Dreams could break a man. Dreams could undo a man.    
She would be made a Hunter by her dreams. She would be undone by her dreams.

She sighed. She was introspecting too much again. 

Winter wondered if Mother had been a bad influence on her. In Father’s eyes, certainly, but in her own… Mother had taught her there were things in life that were more than simple  _ progress. _ Happiness was one of those. Freedom. Fun. Winter’s fondest memories of her involved Mother letting her run about, full of boundless energy, letting her run and jump and climb and cuddle until she was utterly  _ exhausted _ , and then sitting in her rocking chair, draping a blanket over her, and rocking her to sleep. Sweet, dreamless sleep.

She was getting distracted again. She wondered how long she’d stood here, with her hand outstretched, staring at her mother’s face. The ache in her heart wasn’t going away. 

Winter took a deep breath and held back tears. She had to get this over and done with. Bedside table, second drawer. A small, embroidered envelope. She recognised it as one of Father’s favourites. He only used them for  _ special _ occasions. 

The - the wax seal with his symbol was still intact.

She wanted to tear it off so badly. Instead, she reached for her sabre, to use the dagger to cut it with minimal damage - wait, where was her -

Winter’s hand clasped at thin air and she groaned audibly. She hadn’t remembered to re-armed herself. Father would be  _ furious _ with her when - no, he already knew. She was going to face the consequences of that misaction later.

She hooked her fingernail under the edge and pried it open, doing her best not to ruin the seal. 

It came off with surprising ease. 

She opened it. Her heart was beating hard, threatening to break out of her chest. Her throat closed up as she saw the script. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She - she couldn’t -

_ Title Deed _

_ Subject 13-H _

_ Polendina Labs _

_ Research and Development _

_ Atlesian Military  _

The gift fell from her numb, shaking hands, slipping through her fingers. She didn’t hear it hit the ground. A choked sob came out. Winter fell to her knees, putting her face in her hands. 

Her cheeks were wet. 

-.-.-


End file.
